


Like Oil and Water

by eyrist



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - No Metaverse (Persona 5), Alternate Universe - No Personas (Persona Series), Anal, Anal Sex, Angst, Breeding Kink, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Infidelity, Knotting, M/M, No P5R spoilers, Omega Verse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Penis In Vagina Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Vaginal Sex, What Have I Done, akeshu - Freeform, alpha!Akira, beta!goro, changing biologies ??, hornytl i blame you, intersex goro, it'll make sense I swear, it's dramatic, literally a crackfic turned serious, no one is a 'villain', omega!kasumi, only in the beginning tho ??, original a/b/o lore, shuake, they're all just people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:42:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25140304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyrist/pseuds/eyrist
Summary: To mix would be impossible, and yet they try to, anyway.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro & Persona 5 Protagonist, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Amamiya Ren & Original Yoshizawa Kasumi
Comments: 46
Kudos: 174





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> hi !! implied rape starts at "And, okay, there might’ve been mishaps" and ends at "but god fucking dammit was Goro determined not to let anything stop him."
> 
> enjoy the show :^))

Shujin was, in a word, a prison.

It posed as one of Tokyo’s most prestigious academies with large, polished classrooms and top-tier facilities, a big school in the heart of the city that boasted of its teachers and honour students. Perhaps to the unawares, it was the prize to get to once you reached high school, for it was one of those few who stood amongst the cream of the crop in education amongst the entire prefecture, the supposed _haven_ wherein dynamics and second genders didn’t matter in your fight for the top.  
But people didn’t know how that was complete and utter bullshit. People on the outside looking in never caught sight of what actually happened behind those strong walls and dark hallways, never heard the screams that everyone muted below the rumours and chatter, never knew the absolute _Hell_ that Shujin Academy (with a name that had the same word for _prisoner_ ) hid beneath bright smiles and shining alumni.

He’d been a naïve fledgling once, walking through those large gates for the first time in his life, dressed impeccably and without a single wrinkle in his clothing. There was a nervous rhythm in the beat of his heart then, a haze of anxiety clouding his brain, but nonetheless, he was ready for whatever this school would throw at him.  
Because to be a Beta in this world meant there were no eyes on you: You were simply the majority, the ones in the background; Omegas were the group that had it bad, babied and held to no real standards, meanwhile the Alphas were looked up to (both literally _and_ metaphorically) with expectations that reached Tokyo Tower and positions that were practically handed to them on a silver spoon.

That meant he had to bust ass to even get the chance to _step onto the spotlight_ — but Goro Akechi wasn’t a quitter. He wasn’t one to give up just because of the circumstances of his birth. So, even if it took tearing his way to Hell and back to even be _existent_ , he would do it and _more_.

Three years into the grind, he never once showed any trace of stopping.

Sure, there was (tough) competition with Makoto Niijima, local Alpha with a sister Goro worked with at times; And _sure_ , there were people constantly faking their masks to get on his good side; And, okay, there _might’ve_ been mishaps in which he was shoved into corner bathroom stalls, or the storage room beside the gym after some Alphas mistook the minimal scent hanging off of him (vanilla and peppermint, so faint it was barely there) as an Omega's scent, had him yell until his throat felt like sandpaper and he’d lost his voice, but god _fucking_ dammit was Goro determined not to let anything stop him.

If he was anything, he was a boy blooming into manhood, running on spite and anger the entire way through.

He was only lucky that Alpha sperm and Beta womb didn't mix.

That rang especially true in his third year, when there was a transfer student lingering among the sophomores. Goro, now the student council vice president in his graduating year and with nothing stopping him, was assigned the grand task of keeping an eye on the fresh blood— that whom had crimson running down his fingers.  
He looked normal enough the first time Goro saw him: Long bangs down to his eyes, covering part of the black frames he hid behind, no doubt trying to keep to the wall and remain a forgettable face in the duration of his probation period. He was tall, lanky and not at all built, and Goro made the easy mistake of dismissing him as a simple Beta, like _he_ was.

But there was something about that transfer student, the one branded “ _delinquent_ ” and “ _killer_ ” amongst the voices of the gossip mill. Sometimes, he seemed just a _bit_ taller, just a bit more (and Goro didn’t have any other word in his vast vocabulary for it) _predatory_. They’d never interacted in direct for the first two months that Goro was basically stalking him for the school, and throughout the entire time, he was held witness to how Akira Kurusu changed.

Though he still hid behind those large glasses of his, Goro would sometimes see just how sharp those eyes truly were, just how much mischief and chaos they wore on a near-daily basis. The more he watched Akira Kurusu, the more he noticed how broad his shoulders stretched. As time passed and he kept his watchful stare on the delinquent Shujin Academy housed, he’d catch, just _briefly_ , how the way he kept his hands in his pockets as he roamed the halls looked less _keeping my head down_ , and more _I own everything in this school_.

And maybe that was when it hit him.

 _Oh_.

Akira Kurusu was no Beta; He was one of the most domineering Alphas that Goro Akechi had ever seen in his eighteen years of life.

He was the boy that kept mostly to himself, if not with the small trio he’d formed with Alpha Ann Takamaki and Beta Ryuji Sakamoto; He was the delinquent who looked like he couldn’t harm a fly, while at the same time just _oozing_ an aura that demanded absolute respect; He was the local country bumpkin with a criminal record and a _too_ -misleading demeanour, all wrapped up in one tall and handsome package with sharp teeth and a charming smile to boot.

So to say that Goro Akechi was slowly, _surely_ , finding himself smitten with the boy was absolute _slander_.

But it was the lie he was going to keep telling himself.

At least, until he found himself cornered in his own damn hiding spot one afternoon, precisely two hours after the dismissal bell rang.

The air that day was still a bit cold, even as summer was on its way over. Rain pattered above him on the metal roof of the sitting area, sending goosebumps up his arms if the chill of the vending machine behind him wasn’t doing that enough already— and of course, one other, much more _important_ little detail he couldn’t forget.

Akira Kurusu, with those dark eyes, staring straight into his own with an arm placed firmly beside his head and blocking off any possible escape route that Goro once had.

The smile on the boy’s lips was sweet, tugged up much higher than Goro had ever seen it. Through that grin, the whites of his teeth peeked through, Goro’s gaze betraying him and instinctively going to the sharp teeth of his canines. Even with the minimal distance between them, Goro could already feel the heat radiating from the other boy’s body, a strong whiff of coffee and dahlias flowering from him, that aura he’d taken note of so many times _demanding_ Goro not to tear his eyes away from Kurusu’s.

When he looked back up, Kurusu’s gaze filled with more _mirth_ than before.

“Hello, senpai!” he greeted, and Goro has heard his voice before, but _fuck_ if hearing how husky and so deceptively- _deep_ it was at this close of a range didn’t make a chill creep up his spine, “How are you?”

Goro was frozen.

He wasn’t this weak (usually) but he couldn’t _move_.

Not with those eyes trained on him and scrutinising the red of his irises.

Not with someone like Akira Kurusu that wore danger and deception like a second skin on his sleeve.

 _Fuck_.

He only realised his voice had found him once again when Kurusu’s mouth opened.

“I’m doing well, thank you for asking.”

“That’s good!”

Kurusu pushed off him then, an action that was so fluid and easy that Goro thought there was no possible _way_ he didn’t practise it. Even still, with Kurusu’s hands tucked into his pockets once more (the signature pose that everyone knew the delinquent from) Goro still felt like he couldn’t move— but then again, maybe it was along the lines of he _shouldn’t_ move.

After all, Kurusu still had his gaze on him.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

“I was a little worried I’d scare you off,” he laughed, the sound somehow so warm and inviting that Goro didn’t notice it made one corner of his lip twitch up, just _hesitantly_ , “I wanted to say thanks.”

He blurted out the words before his brain could even catch up.

“For what?”

And when Kurusu looked at him then, in that _one_ singular moment, it was with the most honesty and kindness that Goro has ever bore witness to— which, really, wasn’t that high of a bar to begin with.

“For looking out for me.”

In one second, his head had been bowed before Goro, hair looking so fluffy and inky that Goro was half-tempted to run his gloved hands through them.

“I know you’ve been watching my back. Thank you for being so considerate, senpai.”

_There’s no way he doesn’t know why._

Goro wasn’t sure why he had that thought. Maybe it was because of how sharp Kurusu’s eyes were, or how he always seemed to be three steps ahead. Maybe it was the way he looked like he could see _through_ people, figure out what they were after with just a moment’s glance. Maybe it was because Goro wasn’t as slick as he thought he waas and the fact that he was so easily cornered in one of his hiding spots was Kurusu’s way of letting him know that he was aware he’s been _stalking him_ these past two months.

Maybe Goro was overthinking it.

“Please, you don’t have to go that far to thank me, Kurusu.” Goro shook his head, a hand lightly touching the other’s shoulder. “Really, it’s okay! It’s my duty to make sure the young ones aren’t being mistreated!”

It was a complete lie. The way Kurusu peered up at him made it evident enough that he knew, too. Nonetheless, Kurusu wanted to keep playing this game.

“Let me treat you to dinner,” the boy pleaded, “ _Please_. It’s the least I can do.”

There was no way in Hell Goro Akechi was going to fuck up his task just _because_ he got a little intimate with the target.

“I can’t possibly accept, Kurusu— That’s too much.”

And the way Kurusu stepped closer to him once more (breaching his personal space, oddly making Goro _let_ him) made it apparent that this boy was going to do _just_ that.

“Then let me rephrase it.”

The way his voice had dropped a simple octave lower made something within Goro _purr_.

“I want to take you out on a date. Do you want to have dinner with me?”

That was the exact moment Goro knew he was already miles off the deep end, and that he wouldn’t stop falling, all until he hit rock bottom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hOO BOY DIDYA EVER THINK HORNYTL WOULD BE POWERFUL ENOUGH TO MAKE YOU WRITE A THREAD INTO A FIC  
> I DIDN'T  
> AND NOW HERE WE ARE 
> 
> fr tho this is a nice break from the melodies of the soul uwu not saying im burnt outta that series, but a break in flow is nice every once in a while, ya feel ? noice. 
> 
> i made like [a whole ass thread](https://twitter.com/apodysophilia/status/1280531421673566214) detailing the hc's i have on my take of the omegaverse, plus it's also the vvv rough outline of like oil and water smkssmkssk  
> major spoilers if you decide to read through it !! 
> 
> this is gonna be a nice lil ride y'all uwu love ya hornytl 💕💕
> 
> listen list !!  
> stelouse - shivers n gold


	2. And oh, I'm not in love anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .. But I will keep you close to me, forevermore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi so
> 
> check the tags again before you start to read this one please !! 
> 
> otherwise, please enjoy !!

His back hurt— and not in the way that he would’ve liked.

You think he’d be used to it at this point, but “ _a guide on how to get used to sitting in one position for seven hours straight_ ” was never in the textbooks. Hell, he’d only lived through a crash course and a free trial on it during university, really— and even then, he was only hunched over his desk and his laptop for a maximum of three hours before crashing.

 _This_ , though? This was different from project deadlines and reports written last-minute. This wasn’t a simple “ _I’ll get it to you once your last class ends!_ ” nor was it something so easy to ask an extension for. Being secretary for the company’s CEO had its perks (was already the height of his career, something admirable for a Beta) but at the same time..

“ _Fuck_..”

At the same time, it was complete bullshit, too.

Goro had been bent into himself like that for at least _ten_ hours now, his eyes bloodshot and dry from staring at the computer screen for so long. Four styrofoam cups sat beside his keyboard, had long been emptied of their contents as the day turned to late night, and around his frame, the thickest suit jacket he had yet. Unfortunately for him, it couldn’t stave away the cold of his office, as it never _did_ do much to keep chills from racing up his skin.

But formalities and proper dress code were to be expected, especially for someone like him who stood high above the rest of the company—near the peak, but never quite the top—so he’ll have to learn to live with the horseshit that was never being able to wear a sweater to work.

Sitting back, his fingers (cold and stiff, bright pink at the pads after typing so much) came to lace together, the joints around multiple parts of his back and arms sounding off their relieved _cracks,_ _pops_ as he stretched them up over his head. In the dark and quiet of the room he sat within, it more echoed across the walls, rang above the drone of the AC and reached into his ears. To finally hear the thrumming of his own heartbeat again after so long wasn’t such a rare occurrence anymore, not with his job— but it told him one thing.

In all honesty, he didn’t know what time it was. He just knew that he could get home already now that he was finally done: the damned annual report of another year was always a bitch and a half to finish.

So, more than exhausted, just shy away from _death_ , and a tad bit more _dead inside_ than he usually was, he made quick work to save the document and send it out in an e-mail, cc-ing it to all the other investors’ secretaries for _them_ to look over now. He really couldn’t give less of a fuck as he turned off the computer haphazardly, grabbing his bag off the floor immediately after he shot out of his seat and padding out of the office with as much urgency as a cat splashed with water.

Ah, a warm bath would be so nice right now. He needed to feel something smoothen out the kinks in his neck, unwind the bowstring-tightness of his shoulders. He would’ve loved to get some sushi, but Gods knew if there were still places that were even _open_ at this time. Just to fill in the fantasy of what he couldn’t have even more, Goro would’ve loved to come home to large and warm hands on his back, massaging out all the stress and pitfalls of his too-long day.  
But fuck, that was never going to happen. It was far too late in the night for anything he wanted, was really only _lucky_ to even get that day-off the next day. As always, he’d spend it in his bed, sleeping through the hours until he reached that point in time when he had to get up for another, longer shift at work— but it was the little things that kept him at it.

Mainly, it was the fact that this was the best-paying job he’s ever had and that being the secretary of a CEO was already miles better than what the average Beta could achieve in two, short years. Goro wasn’t going to let go of that, because _he_ was special.

The guards at the foot of the building waved him off politely as Goro nodded past, one in particular bidding him away with a “ _good job, Akechi!_ ” as Goro left. He knew that one well, though he could never remember his name: He was the one who always wished him well as he left work at the early hours of the (next) day like that, who had a cute smile and was nice enough to sometimes check up on Goro when he had a turn at walking around the inside of the building.

He was kind.

And that was dangerous.

If not dangerous for Goro, then dangerous for himself.

He reminded Goro of someone he used to know, someone far too kind for his own good that it sometimes physically hurt to have him in his presence. That guard was like an Alpha that once promised to give him the world, delivered on his every word except for _one_.

But Goro didn’t want to think about that _or_ him (again.) He just wanted to get to his apartment and sleep the fatigue away for the next nineteen hours.

Walking the streets, Goro would again stretch upwards, feeling the blood flow back into the muscles around his spine better now. An almost-contented sigh left his lips as he let his arms fall back down, a yawn following not too long after, and as he breathed in deeply, there were tears already forming at the corners of his eyes. He made to lazily bring a hand up and rub at the corners of them as he strode/staggered the path back to home, only knowing the way with closed eyes due to sheer _muscle memory_.

He could thank his countless, exhausted nights for training him on that: On getting back even if he was falling asleep as he walked and had a blindfold over his eyes.

Roppongi was mostly-devoid of people the more Goro crossed it, only a few, stray office workers (same as he) wandering the streets. Some of them looked drunk, some looked drained of energy, and some were clunking into groups that were _planning_ on getting drunk with their superiors— and really, he was grateful that his own boss wasn’t the type to drag Goro around to drink, because if he was, he would never get any work done.

It was the small miracles that kept him at this for two years and counting, the monotony of everyday life that kept him busy and _distracted_.

Being busy and distracted was good.

Just not on that particular night.

Because when Goro had the sense to open his eyes once again, it was when he felt himself get knocked onto his behind.

“Jesus Chr— _Watch it—_!”

The man who’d stood above him, slouching forwards, had a hood that cast shadows over his face under the light of a streetlamp. Still, when Goro caught the way his hands flew out of the hoodie’s pockets (the way he raised them as if to keep a scared kitten from being frightened) Goro couldn’t stop the widening of his eyes, the slack of his jaw as his lips gaped in shock.

It was just _his_ luck.

“I’m sorry!”

So when he heard that voice..

“I wasn’t looking where I was go—”

And when the recognition dawned upon the man’s face, too. 

“Go.. Goro..?”

Goro Akechi decided this was the worst night of his life.

* * *

How ironic was it to say that, to find himself, he first had to get lost walking around Tokyo? The answer laid waiting on opposite ends of the scale, really: From being so fond of cats, he often acted like one himself, wandering into places unknown and getting out with just a few scratches and a nonchalance that was so-obviously for the sake of hiding his wounds; On the other side of the coin, he had absolutely no idea where in the ever-loving _fuck_ he was, but it was better than being at his apartment, that was for sure. His phone had long died on him (probably when he was at that club deep within the bowels of Shinjuku) and there weren’t any landmarks he could recognise from his long and lonely travels— plus, it was probably half-past one in the morning at that point and there were but a few stragglers roaming the streets, none he really wanted to ask directions from.

Most of them were either _drunk_ or _Omegas_.

Akira had already decided (the moment he awoke, actually) that he had enough of Omegas for the day.

So, with his head covered by his hoodie and watching the ground he walked, Akira had been strolling through whichever part of Tokyo he found himself in _this time_ with hands keeping warm in his pockets, with his old glasses perched upon the bridge of his nose, and with a strong sense of _lost kitten_ oozing off of him through his scent: the coffee permeating much weaker than usual and the dahlias smelling like they were in the process of dying as they bloomed.

At least, that was all until he was torn out of his reverie by a body crashing into his, Akira’s hands too late to grab hold of the other’s arms before they could collide with the pavement.

“I’m sorry!”

The words had left him automatically, so used to apologising even at twenty-three years old.

“I wasn’t looking where I was go—”

But then he would stop.

“Go..”

Because that brown hair (like caramels and mocha mixed into one) was too familiar a shade, even as it’d been cut so short— a shame.

“ _Goro_..?”

Yes, that was him. No one had eyes _that_ red like Goro Akechi.

“Kurusu.”

The way he’d spit Akira’s name like a dagger cutting the air (the fact that he even went for _Kurusu_ and not _Akira_ ) had more than stung, souring the scent of coffee radiating off of him quickly, the dahlias smelling like they rotted. Though Akira’s face had made a quick recovery, lying never came so easy when your own biology betrayed you.

“It’s— It’s been a while!” Akira stuck a hand out to the other, bent by the knees and shooting his shot because honestly? It _had_ been _too_ long. “Ah, I’m really sorry I made you fall.. I _really_ wasn’t looking where I was going.”

But Goro never took his hand. Instead, he’d picked his briefcase up from the ground and pushed himself up with no assistance. Dejectedly, Akira could only withdraw his limb and let it slide back into his pockets, a sort of safe space for them to be in.

Gods knew Akira had a habit of exposing himself with his hands, whether it had been feeling anxiety, joy, sadness, anger.. It was all revealed in the way he moved his fingers.

“It’s fine,” the brunette shrugged, eyes so clouded over that Akira couldn’t read them, “It was an accident. Goodnight.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, _wait_ —!”

In an instant, one hand had already shot out and pressed onto Goro’s shoulder, kept him from _leaving again_.

“It’s been..”—Akira forced a smile, a breath heaving out of him—“ _years_..! Let’s hang out.”

What met him was a murderous glare, just barely-veiled for the sake of formality.

“In case you don’t know, _Kurusu_ , it’s late. We haven’t spoken in all those years and we’re _not_ friends. I’d rather it stayed that way.”

Ouch, that was.. a _lot_ of hostility.

Akira absolutely _refused_ to give up, though.

“Which is _exactly_ why we should hang out! _Come on_ , my treat.”

The coffee grew sourer, the dahlias continued to rot.

And yet Goro Akechi stared back at him with an exhaustion that was equal to all of his years stacked on top of each other. His eyes still beheld naught but blankness, lips pulled down into a deep and tired frown. More than just a little bit of leftover bitterness and anger lingered in the umber flecks of his brilliant, red eyes, and Akira was grasping at straws trying to find a way to _convince_ him.

“You just..” Akira tried once more, a small shrug falling from his shoulders, “You look like you could use a drink.”

There was a beat or two of silence that passed in the air, all until a _growl_ erupted from an obviously-starved stomach. Akira’s eyes darted from Goro’s midriff and back up to his eyes in just a second, and when his gaze settled upon the other once more, Goro had averted his own and turned his head, brows slanted down in what was either _concentration_ or _anger._

“Dinner and drinks, my treat,” Akira said once again, a finality in his tone. Even if the look in his eyes told of how he wanted to push the envelope, he was still careful of how he spoke, how his voice had come out— Because Alphas were born leaders, and it was easy for an Alpha to exert their will upon others.

Akira didn’t want that. He didn’t want to force anyone into doing anything just because he _wanted_ them to submit.

Finally, a sigh broke into the air.

“ _Fine_ ,” Goro muttered, and though the bitterness tainted his voice, Akira still found himself _elated_ , “Dinner and drinks, and then I’m going home.”

Akira nodded.

“That’s your call.”

And as Goro began striding forwards once more, Akira fell into step beside him, a respectable distance put between them two.

“So.. Can you please tell me where the _Hell_ we are, so I know how to take you to one of the best joints I know?”

* * *

It was sooner or later that they’d found themselves stumbling into a jazz bar, the one safe haven that Akira had always fled to at some points of the day. He didn’t know why he never had the sense to bring any of his friends here, but there was something about the fact that no one knew him at the establishment that comforted him— Well, save for one bartender, of course, who always watched Akira spiral into the pit of drunkenness.

Sat at a round table, just ways off from the stage, Akira didn’t need to look at the menu card a waitress had brought to them to know what he wanted: He always went for his regular.

“It suits you.”

But from where he’d been resting his eyes on, he found them snapping to the man who’d sat across him, whom had his legs crossed sharply from beneath the table and the intensity of his gaze focused on the menu card.

Goro didn’t look that much different from the last that Akira had seen him, truth be told. Though his hair had been cropped short to just above his ears now, the gracefulness in his movements and the mannerisms which he carried effortlessly were still the exact same as a time that was.. so very long ago already.  
He thought that maybe he should’ve expected six years to bring with it changes of all kinds, but Akira wondered if maybe he was stuck in a loop. He himself hadn’t grown very much since high school—had really only filled out with muscle—with hair that remained ever-long and ever-curly, eyes that he still hid behind the large, old frames with fake prescription. In the back of his head, he wondered if he’d ever even really transitioned from _boy_ to _man_ , when in his pubescence, he already towered above most people and didn’t get carded at places he really shouldn’t have been in.

Akira decided to look down upon their table with just a hint of a smile on his lips, shrugging concomitantly.

“What do you mean?”

“Shady, quiet.. Jazz.” Goro nodded solemnly around the pub, his eyes looking lost in thought. “It’s the kind of place that suits you.”

He.. wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that particular statement, if he were to be honest here— Though it was mostly true.

“Thanks..”

“Have you decided what you want yet?”

“Oh! Yeah—” Akira raised a hand towards one of the waitresses, beckoning her over. All the while, he’d try to ignore the feel of Goro’s eyes scrutinising him.

The feeling of being watched always came as a sort of second instinct to Akira, always being able to tell if there was a gaze that lingered on him or not. It made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand straight and a chill creep up his shoulders, the phantom of a crawling feeling settling deep beneath his skin.  
Goro’s gaze was much like most, really. It studied him, analysed his every move— What made it the worst feeling of all, in that particular moment, was the fact that those deep, red eyes were filled with justified _hatred_ and _mistrust_.

What made that go from _worst_ to _Hellish_ , was the fact that he still cared about what Goro thought of him.

When their food and drinks had been placed in front of them, Akira made to distract himself by grabbing hold of his burger and biting down on it, only humming a small, satisfied note once the flavours teased his tongue. From just out of his peripheral, though, he’d watch (cautiously, nervously) as Goro picked at the salad that he’d ordered.

“Are you going to keep staring?”

_Ah, shit—_

Akira almost choked on the bite he was swallowing.

“No, I was just—” he sputtered, scrambling for an excuse in his head, “Your hair. It’s shorter now.”

Goro kept poking the leaves in his salad, only stabbing his fork through a layer or three when his eyes had met Akira’s— in a too-noticeable glare, of course.

“Well, corporate jobs require corporate attire. Managing your own café means you have your own rules.”

Now that was just unfair.

Before Akira could even ask how Goro could _possibly_ known that, Goro beat him to the punch.

“Ann never stops talking about you and your friends.”

“Oh.”

Yeah, that made sense. (And also shattered the singular, tiny shard of hope that Akira had left in his heart that _maybe_ Goro still gave a fuck about him enough to check if he ever found a job in Tokyo or not, but he’s not going to mention that.)

“She, uh..” he gulped, a deep breath taken in through his nostrils before he even _dared_ open his mouth again, “She talks about you a lot, too. Big office position, huh?”

“Secretary of the CEO, to be exact.”

“Damn.”

It wasn’t a cuss borne from being impressed; Rather, the tone that laced his voice was that of _disappointment_.

So, all those years of the prettiest singing he’s ever heard, shut within a locked closet..

“Excuse me?” Goro spoke up, his brows knitted together by just the slightest bit, a hint of irritation slipping into his voice. Akira only shook his head in response, leaning back in his seat.

From where he was positioned, he had a clear view of the stage behind Goro, the musicians still on full-swing of instrumental jazz and the like. They seemed relaxed as they played, bouncing off of one another easily— a type of synchronisation and harmonisation that came with playing together for a considerable amount of time. Even still, though, Akira couldn’t miss how there seemed to be one member missing from their little band, the lone microphone stand having been abandoned at the very front of the small, elevated platform, no singer in sight.

Well, not until Akira settled his eyes back onto Goro.

“You had— _have_ a killer set of pipes. It’s just a little hard to believe you’re using it for office meetings now.”

Goro huffed as he stuck the leaves into his mouth, giving Akira a squinted glare as he chewed and swallowed.

“I was never much of a singer.”

“You were literally called _Songbird_ at Shujin.”

“That was in _Shujin_ , Kurusu,” Goro sighed, seeming frustrated with how he’d closed his eyes briefly, “In case you haven’t realised, we’re not in that school anymore.”

“You’re right,” Akira relented, hands throwing up just briefly before he grabbed his beer bottle, “We’re at a jazz bar and it’s open mic night.”

He tipped the bottle up over his lips after he finished speaking, almost as if to let his words sink into Goro’s head in the meantime. After the drink had gone down his throat, he’d look back at Goro with a small, _devious_ smile on his lips.

“What are you implying.”

It was less of a question and more of a demand.

“ _Nothing_ , just that— Well, there isn’t anyone singing right now, is all.”

“ _Unbelievable_ ,” Goro sighed, hand coming up to hold his temple as a quick succession of (irritated) sentences left him, “You’re trying to get me to sing. I can’t believe it— Actually, I _can_ believe it. Only _you’d_ be stupid enough to ask me to sing. Why are you such a dumb idiot to do this after—”

He ended his rant with a frustrated groan, and even if the conversation was about to teeter into _point of no return_ territory, Akira fought off the laugh bubbling from his tongue as he took another swig of his drink.

“I mean, I wasn’t anywhere _close_ to suggesting such a thing, but now that you mention it..”

But Goro was quick to shoot him down.

“ _No_.”

“I haven’t even—”

“I’m _not_ going to sing again.”

Akira shrugged in response, bottle to his lips as he muttered,

“I mean if the Songbird has turned into a chicken, I can understand but..”

That was the moment it all cracked.  
That was the exact moment he felt the death glare Goro had been throwing into his face, the brunette’s lips tugged down into a deep frown with his brows slanting suit; That was the exact minute Akira was afraid that he’d gone too far and that what he’d just done wasn’t appropriate for them, with their entangled past; That was the exact _second_ that Akira felt true fear for the first time in six years, right as Goro had come to stand abruptly, staring down at him with the same squinted glare.

“I’m not taking this.”

And there was already an apology ready on his tongue, then—there was already a string of “ _I’m sorry’s_ ” just _waiting_ for the exact moment he fucked it all up (again)—but when Akira realised that Goro hadn’t picked up his briefcase off the spare seat, he’d only watch in dumbfounded awe as Goro turned on his heel and strolled towards the stage.

He’d done it slowly, and Akira could see as he did that thing he always did to calm himself down: He breathed in so deep that his shoulders rose, exhaled slowly as they descended, over and over until he reached a page-turner beside the musicians and whispered something within her ear.

Akira could only watch, equal parts stunned and amazed written all over his face, as Goro climbed onto the stage once the applause had died down, coming to stand in front of the microphone and adjust it to his height.

Finally, he’d only remember to breathe in a deep inhale, because this was a moment that would surely last a single second in the grand scheme of it all, and yet it was a second that Akira wanted to capture for the rest of his life.

Nodding at each other, the musicians would begin their next song: One that Akira recognised as a popular request in this bar, specifically.

And then Goro Akechi parted his lips, but not before giving one, pointed look at Akira.

 _“People come and they go,”_ he’d begun, and by the first note alone, Akira was enraptured. _“Some people may stay with you, though.”_

He couldn’t believe it.

_“I am all alone tonight, and I kept on asking myself questions.”_

He actually got Goro to get on that stage.

_“Conceited I was at time—”_

He was actually hearing Goro sing once more.

_“I never really doubted myself..”_

And he was watching with his mouth agape, eyes widened underneath his glasses.

_“But tonight got me thinking ‘bout it all, if I am the Fool or whatnot.”_

He was openly gawking as he locked eyes upon the brunette.

_“I do not regret with my choices, I’m rather proud.”_

Goro had sung as he always used to: A hand to the mic, the other to the stand, all while he’d let his eyes flutter closed and his body sway to the beat. Whenever he sung, he looked so, incredibly serene, so _peaceful_ like he was asleep and the world could fade into a pause for just a few, short minutes. It always felt like the universe had come to a stop whenever Goro Akechi sang, like everything else didn’t exist and it was only his voice that remained— For whenever Akira listened to him, it was like nothing mattered except for the sound of his smooth alto.

Akira felt as if he didn’t blink throughout the entirety of the song, felt as if he couldn’t even _breathe_ lest he’d wake from a too-good dream. He was, in all essence of the word, _captured_ by the singing of the sweetest Songbird he’s ever had the luck to listen to.  
The feeling was akin to finding a diamond in the rough, so very reminiscent of finding a treasure to be kept safe and protected. He wasn’t sure if it was the Alpha within him that was talking, but it was how he felt, deep in his core, as he watched Goro Akechi sway and sing his heart out, looking so effortless and _ethereal_ that Akira couldn’t believe that this was truly the waking reality.

But, as he said, it was but a second in the grander scheme of time, for when he felt his soul snap back into his body, it was when a roaring applause rounded the bar around him. Goro had taken a deep bow before hopping off the stage, a graceful smile sitting on his cheeks as he looked back up to the audience, before he’d stepped off and made his way back to Akira.

All the while, Akira felt like he was being hit with a ton of bricks.

As Goro settled back into his seat, Akira took a big swig of his beer, finding it empty too soon for his tastes.

“ _Shit._ ”

Goro looked to him questioningly, one brow quirked up and a smug grin tugging up his lips.

“You’re still— _Wow._ ”

“Who’s the chicken _now_?”

Akira shook his head profusely, breathless and without the words.

“That’s what I _thought_.”

It was maybe why he did it in the first place: To shut Akira Kurusu up. Goro could (and would) lie, say that he did it because Akira goaded him into it, but he’d rather.. _missed_.. performing, so to say. It was one of the few hobbies that he’d had that never got him competitive, that he could merely enjoy because it brought him joy. If he ever had to admit it, he’d even say that singing had lifted his mood, even if by just the littlest bit (read: a _lot_ of little bits.)

“I’m gonna—” Akira coughed into his hand, and Goro couldn’t help but notice the flush colouring his cheeks now, “I’m gonna get more beer. Do you want another one?”

Goro looked down to the bottle settled beside his salad plate, still full.

He nodded.

“Sure. Your treat, anyway.”

He decided, in that very moment, that he wanted to get drunk. Maybe it was a form of chasing the high and giddiness of performance, maybe it was just because he had a day-off tomorrow and he could afford a hangover— Whatever it was, Goro was already chugging the beer he had as of current, internally groaning at the taste whilst his palate adjusted.

Once Akira returned, it was with four beers and Goro was halfway through his salad.

“Those are all for _you_?” Goro blurted, Akira setting them down upon their table. Almost cluelessly, Akira had shrugged as he sat once more.

“I mean unless you want to split them, why not.” He picked up one of the bottles, brought the rim to his lips, “I’m getting drunk either way, so.”

Goro’s lips pursed, incredulity colouring his eyes.

“How irresponsible do you have to be to tempt hangovers while you _manage a café_?”

“The kind of irresponsible that can still make bomb-ass coffee while I’m plastered?”

It was then that he found himself burying his face into the palm of his hand— Again.

“Oh, you’re going to burn down Leblanc one day..” he groaned, his own beer bottle in his free hand now. He took a swig as Akira chuckled across him, the smile on his lips bright and toothy, reminding Goro of times past.

_Shut up, Goro.._

“Hey, cut me some slack here— But what about _you_ , mister “ _I’m the **CEO’s** secretary_”? Don’t you have papers to write tomorrow or something?”

“For your information, I have the day off and I can sleep in— unlike _someone_ here that’s going to oversleep, hungover or not.”

“Hey!”

Conversation passed somewhat easily after that, in no small thanks to the alcohol slipping into his system.

One beer turned to two, two turned to three, and at some point Goro had stopped counting because his world spun and his head was hazy. All he knew was that he’d absolutely devoured his salad some few minutes earlier, and that he was burying his face into his arms folded above the table, shoulders shaking as he tried to stifle the laughter tickling his voice. From across him, Akira had leaned back into his chair, hands around his midriff as he howled laughter into the air of the bar, with eyes squeezed shut in that tell-tale sign of inhibition and a grin so wide Goro worried it’d split right across his cheeks.

Looking up once more, Goro wiped the tears away from his eyes, still very much biting his lip in one, last attempt at keeping his laughter bound.

Akira only responded by making the same, stupid face at him— and at that, Goro caved.

He caved _hard_.

Even the hand he’d clamped over his mouth couldn’t truly muffle the loud laughter spilling from his lips, all while he curled into himself and tried (desperately, _futilely_ ) to keep himself upright and balanced. It only ended with Goro’s face pressing onto the table by his forehead, one arm clutched tight around his stomach and the other still pressed against his lips.

“I can’t—” He sputtered, in between laughs and heaves, “I can’t _breathe—_!”

“Hey, Goro—”

“ _No_!”

He could just _see_ Akira smiling that stupidly-goofy grin at him, all wide and charming and stupidly-handsome on his face.

“Goro, Goro, Goro!”

“Akira, m’not falling for thissagain!”

“Goro, Goro, Goro, Goro, Goro!”

Goro lifted his face, eyes shaped into crescents with how big the smile spread across his cheeks was.

“ _What_?!”

Akira blew a kiss at him, Goro faceplanting right back onto the table in yet another fit of laughter before it got anywhere _close_ to him.

Their laughs rang louder amongst the bar, livelier now with more drunkards like them occupying the space. As Goro struggled to breathe, his fingers would make for his latest bottle, picking it up easily and bringing it to his lips— all until he realised that it’d been empty.

That, in fact, all of their bottles had been empty.

He stood up with knees that almost buckled under his weight, having to hold onto the table for support as he _tried_ to see straight.

“More beer,” he supplied simply once seeing the half-surprised, half-curious glance Akira threw at him, “We’re out!”

Akira had already been digging a hand into his pocket for another bill, produced it quickly and held it out to Goro— Which, he didn’t exactly take immediately, not when he shook his head, a dismissive smile wide on his cheeks.

“I’m buying my own damn drinks this time!”

“Then get _me_ one!”

The bill was waved just under his face then, almost _tantalisingly_. Goro didn’t bother to stop the chuckle that left him as he snatched it clean off of Akira’s fingers, turning on his heel soon after to head to the bar.

Goro could tell immediately that he was faced with an Alpha bartender, a strong scent of whiskey filling his nostrils— he thought that it fit the somewhat rugged features of the man, the short and spiky black hair slicked back with gel, as well as his place of work.  
For a second, Goro had even second-guessed if what he was smelling was the _bartender_ or the _bar_ itself, but the answer was quickly made evident when the man had approached him.

The smoky smell of whiskey permeated his senses further, and Goro found himself _purring_.

Whiskey never smelled so _good_ before.

Eyes lidded, bent over with his ass in full display underneath his slacks, Goro stuck out the bill the bartender’s way.

“Two beers,” he requested, a hint of a smirk playing up one corner of his lips. The bartender had seemed to get the hint (quite immediately, even) as he went to one of the fridges and picked two, green bottles from within— only sliding them towards Goro as he, too, leaned towards him.

“What’s a nice place like you doing in a boy like this?”

The bartender chuckled at his slur of words, eyes glazing over with something akin to what was either endearment or amusement.

“Working.”

“Oh, you’re working it alright.”

Goro’s eyes slid down his uniform, from the black vest that hugged his big frame, to the delicious-looking leather gloves tapping on the counter, all with a carnal hunger making itself evident in his gaze. His head tilted to the side, an attempt at exposing just a _bit_ more of the smooth column of his pale, _unmarked_ neck.

If he were sober, maybe he would’ve started questioning his actions at this point.

But it felt so natural to flow with the current, to slither his fingers from a bottle neck to the leathered hands, to lift one and press a chaste kiss to a finger, his tongue darting out and licking up the pad.

“You alone?”

Goro would’ve nodded, his mind clouded by that smoky whiskey— But alas, he was interrupted by a pair of hands grabbing onto his newly-purchased beers, eyes snapping up towards the _thief_ and making his head spin even more.

“You were taking too long,” Akira huffed, standing close beside Goro— _too_ close, and yet, not nearly _enough_.

“Guess I’m not.” Goro gave the bartender one, lasting wink as he started to stroll back to his and Akira’s table. “Thanks for the drinks, cutie.”

He made sure to do it with his hips swaying, a longing glance stolen from behind his shoulder.

 _Shame_.

The air was practically tenfold of its earlier chill once they _finally_ decided to step out of the bar—more stumbling that walking—and re-emerged into the streets. Goro leaned heavily onto Akira with an arm wrapped around the man’s broad shoulders, Akira doing just _slightly_ more at keeping them upright as they laughed and nearly fell over.. For the fifth time since deciding they should head back before the sun rose.

“S’dumb!” Goro howled, eyes to Akira’s, words bleeding together as they staggered onwards— to where? Neither of them knew nor cared. “The _dumbest_! I can’t be _lieve_ you!”

“You _should_..! Had like..”—Akira gestured his free hand vaguely, the other tightening its hold on Goro’s waist—”A fucken’.. _Explanation_ n’ shit! Already had L’blanc ready on lockdown but _you_..!”

Akira pointed an accusatory finger at him, Goro merely laughing louder as they came to slump against a wall.

“ _You_ didun’t.. Didun’t wanna talk!”

“M’ _sorry_!”

Ah, that was adorable. Akira was pouting at him, all while Goro tried to get comfortable standing with his back against the wall. He was, quite literally, stuck between a hard place and a pouty Alpha.

“ _No_.”

There was naught but a smile pulling up Goro’s cheeks, wider and wider the more he stared at Akira, almost _challenging_ him.

“Not enough!”

And then, Akira was bracing himself with his hands pressed flat on the wall, all the while his stare captured Goro’s own.

“Then..”

Likewise, Goro had found his hands sliding up Akira’s chest, going up to his shoulders and meeting at the nape of his neck.

“ _Sorry_.”

In one, fell swoop, one _quick_ moment, he’d pushed himself closer, _closer_ — All until his lips brushed up against Akira’s and he’d quelled that pouting.

Though the first kiss was chaste ( _pure_ , even) when Goro felt the small breaths fanning over his skin, he knew he damn well couldn’t stop himself.  
One by one, they’d peck, all until that pecking had turned hungry and deep with Akira pushing him back against the wall, chasing Goro as quick as they’d separated. Their lips would do an eager dance of sucks, licks, small nips, Goro’s voice muffled as he pressed into Akira, Akira holding Goro as close as they could get with his hands circling the other man’s waist.

He tasted like alcohol, but even the bitter leftovers of their beers couldn’t rise above the faint hints of vanilla and peppermint oozing into Akira’s nose, drowning in what he could of Goro’s scent, wanting more and taking as much as he can. Goro himself had been enveloped in sweet-smelling coffee, in dahlias at full bloom, and he could only part with a sigh spilling into the air as he tried to catch his breath.

“My place..” he murmured, forehead resting onto Akira’s as he looked into those shiny, obsidian gems for eyes, “My place is close..”

Akira would only take his hand and hold it tight, making it evident how he refused to let go.

They caught a cab soon after, but even still, they couldn’t have gotten to Goro’s apartment quick enough.  
The way up was clumsy, filled with small, frequent breaks for feeling each other’s lips once more, with Goro fumbling for his keys and pushing inside quickly, with Akira following him and immediately sliding his hands onto Goro’s cheeks, pulling him close. For a number of times, they’d nearly trip over the furniture as Goro led him to his bedroom, the door closing with a _click_ before he’d locked it.

And then, there they were.

Alone.

But together.

Goro’s heart beat like a jackhammer within his chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious, like he wasn’t drunk _enough_ for what was bound to come. When he pulled back from Akira’s seemingly-endless stream of kisses and teases on his lips, Akira could only look at him with a question peeking through the glaze of lust in his eyes.

Their hands still held onto one another, Goro taking the chance to guide the Alpha to his bed and sit down at the edge.

Akira settled beside him, leaning towards Goro, but not making a move. He stilled as if he, too, was nervous.

There was a moment in which all they’d done was _breathe_ , look into each other’s eyes— all until Goro guided Akira’s hand to the tie hanging off his collar, gaze lowering to where the man’s palm rested above his heart.

“Mark me..” he whispered, so quietly he was afraid Akira hadn’t heard it. “I _need_ you..”

Silence met him, the anxiety growing in the pit of his stomach as the seconds passed, but when Goro had taken a tentative peek back up at Akira’s eyes, suddenly everything fell into place— Akira didn’t need to hear any more.

It started with heavy petting—just a hand on each other’s knees, sliding up to dangerous waters—before it slowly, _gradually_ , transitioned into undressing each other. Akira’s hoodie ended up on the hardwood floor, Goro’s tie laying above it. The white dress shirt hanging off of Goro’s frame had been unbuttoned, was just _barely_ holding onto his shoulders, and Akira himself was in the process of stripping off his T-shirt, Goro’s deft and slender fingers doing expert work on unbuttoning his jeans.

They fell into the motions naturally, like clockwork, a routine that could never be forgotten even through a few years and more than a couple of drinks. Their hands still knew where to touch, had still been embedded with the memory of their bodies’ topographies, and as Goro pulled Akira down (himself laying on his back now, legs spread around Akira’s knees) Akira moved on autopilot, cupping Goro’s crotch in his palm and rubbing him through the fabric of his slacks in the _exact_ way that always drove him crazy.

“ _Shit.._ Akira..”

“That’s it..” Akira sighed, his head lowering to Goro’s chest, “Keep saying my name, treasure..”

His Alpha was asking him to, wasn’t he? Goro couldn’t ( _wouldn’t_ ) do anything else.

Goro’s hips lifted on their own accord once Akira tugged on his slacks, slipping them and his underwear off easily. Left mostly-bare now, the cool night’s air made a shiver run up Goro’s skin, a single whimper leaving him when he felt the heat of Akira’s palms start to roam his body.  
They left scorch marks wherever he touched, a fire blooming in the pit of Goro’s core by the sensation. There was already a throbbing in his crotch even before Akira had stripped his bottoms off, and it was only made more apparent as Akira kissed down his chest, sucked on his nipples a bit, coaxed what milk he could out of them, before he continued on his journey South.

To feel Akira’s lips on him was one thing, but to feel his tongue dart out and lick a single, slow stripe up the lips parting from thick labia between Goro’s legs— That made him yelp.

“ _Ah_ —! Akira—!”

Akira hummed from where his head buried between Goro’s thighs, a pleasured sound that had Goro whimpering in anticipation.

“S’good..” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to Goro’s dripping lips, “Tastes _s’good_ , treasure..”

“Akira, _please—_ ”

His tongue only did it again.  
Akira continued to lap up the slick juice that drenched Goro’s thighs, going up and down and licking him clean. He devoured Goro as if he were ambrosia, let his tongue roam where it so pleased in search for more of Goro’s cum— and when his search had proved fruitless from the thorough handiwork of the warm, wet muscle sticking out of his mouth, Akira’s lips enclosed around the small, bulbous cock just a few ways up.

It’d always been easy to take Goro’s dick all the way into his mouth, humming around it, sucking as his tongue flicked little kitten licks onto the tip. Though Goro’s eyes had looked to nowhere but Akira, Akira himself had closed his own, wanting to revel in the taste of the Beta, _needing_ to be surrounded by the sweet scent of vanilla and peppermint that he could practically _taste_ at that point.

Though Akira’s mouth performed _wonders_ , Goro just needed something _more_.

“Akira..”

The Alpha peered an eye open, looking up at him curiously— while at the same time, _deviously_ as he pulled away to bite down onto Goro’s inner thigh.

“ _Akira_..!”

“Something y’want, treasure?” Akira chuckled, nuzzling Goro’s thighs now, eyes locked onto Goro’s.

His head bobbed up and down in response, too frantic and eager that it just made the dizziness worse. Whining, Goro would come to a stop, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to make the world stop spinning around him.

And again, Akira chuckled, all while Goro felt the bed dip around him.

“Cute..”

Akira kissed his forehead.

“S’fuckin’ cute.”

That was when he felt it: The tip of Akira’s dick prodding at his pussy.

Cracking his eyes open, Goro came to the realisation that Akira had already stripped the remainder of his clothes off, his thighs pressing against Goro’s as he held his cock to Goro’s hole. A shaky grin broke out onto his cheeks, legs wrapping around Akira’s waist, his hips grinding against the head of Akira’s cock—an attempt at teasing him enough to just _fuck him_ already—all while his arms had come around Akira’s neck once more to pull him into another kiss.

They moved sloppily this time, much more hunger and desperation bared in their movements. Goro opened his mouth readily once he felt Akira’s tongue swipe up his lips, his moans muffled by Akira licking around his own tongue, his senses buzzing and simultaneously bathed by the scent of coffee and dahlias. When the sensation of being filled reached him, Goro had only made to pull Akira in a deeper kiss, bucked his hips to encourage him to go faster, sheathe the entirety of his length within Goro’s pussy.

“Shit.. _Treasure.._ So _tight_ , treasure..”

 _God_ , Goro couldn’t even take _every_ inch of Akira’s cock all those years ago, but when he felt the Alpha’s hips press against his own, Goro moaned in sweet, sweet pleasure. He felt it _deep_ within him, felt how it pressed against the very end of the line, could only yell Akira’s name much too loud for it to be agreeable with his neighbours when Akira pressed against him _harder_.

He saw the stars and heavens above when the tip pressed into his womb, fucked-out bliss evident on his face once Akira slid out, just _slowly_ , only to slam his cock right back into Goro’s pussy.

“ _Fuck_ , yes! Akira, faster!”

Akira had only growled into the skin of his neck, teeth bared as he went on an uninhibited, merciless, and _relentless_ pace.  
Neither of them had the mind to keep quiet—not with Goro chanting Akira’s name like a prayer, not with the filthy praises that slipped off Akira’s tongue for him—only the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin really being a constant between them. If Goro were more aware, he’d notice how the bed creaked and kept slamming into the wall, Akira moving much too hard and fast in and out of him for it _not_ to.

He always used to fuck Goro so good, used to fuck him like a goddamn animal— He’d leave bite marks and bruises in far-too-visible places; He’d hold Goro down and have him at his _complete_ control; He’d drive his cock in and out of the tightness of Goro’s walls with no rhyme, reason, nor _care_ , because he _knew_ Goro wanted to be bred, wanted to be used and abused and fucked like his life depended on being Akira’s cumdump.  
And _oh_ , Akira would always deliver. Akira always delivered so _well_ , left him sore for _weeks_ and filled him to the brim and _then_ some, made sure that Goro was always fucked hard to the point of staggering when he walked for the next few days. Akira used to paint Goro’s body with his climax, practically _bathed_ him in the sticky, white fluid, all until Akira was satisfied that _his_ mate smelled like him and _only_ him.

Because Goro _was_ his mate, and Goro wanted to revel in the fact even if they never told anyone.

He’d gotten just a sliver of that feeling once more when Akira bit down onto his neck.

Nails scratching up and down Akira’s back, with his legs hooked tight around Akira’s hips, Goro would tilt his head to the side and bare more of his neck, invite him to do it _more_. Akira complied easily, was quick to kiss and bite and lick every spot he could reach, only pulling back to admire the messy canvas of reds and purples and forming-blacks on Goro’s skin.

“ _Mine_..” he mumbled, adding yet another hickey to the junction between Goro’s neck and shoulder, “ _Only_ mine..”

“Only yours..”

Akira kept biting him, all while Goro felt the flame burning in the pit of his stomach turn into a brilliant, blazing _fire_.

He was far too gone at that point to find the words, only moaning loud and yelling Akira’s name as indication that he was close, _so_ close. He was tightening around Akira’s thick Alpha cock _much_ more than before and the scratches he’d been leaving on Akira’s back turned to gripping onto the backs of his shoulders as a form of purchase. He felt his nails dig into Akira’s skin as he begged the man to go faster, go _harder_ , fuck him more, fuck him until he got knocked up, knot Goro until he was pregnant with Akira’s pups—

“ _Please_! Akira, I _need_ it! Need your cum!”

—And all the while, Akira was taking it and eating it up, holding Goro’s hips in a death grip as he pounded Goro all the faster, all the _harder_ , just like he asked, just like he wanted.

“Fuck, _fuck_.. Love, you’re so—!”

It wasn’t too long after that Goro was holding onto Akira hard, his face buried into the Alpha’s shoulder as he breathed in his scent. Goro’s body writhed and shook as he reached his peak, legs tightening around Akira impossibly tight, his walls feeling just how _full_ he was with Akira’s cock shoved into him. All of it combined was dizzying, _overwhelming_ , driving him to the crash of orgasm and keeping him hanging for just those few, oh so blissful seconds.

Goro realised he was biting down onto Akira’s skin only when he’d begun the descent, his head filling with the high of post-orgasm and his hold on Akira relaxing— But only for a short bit, because as soon as Akira felt he was okay, he’d flipped Goro onto his stomach and held his hips up, sliding his cock back into the hot, tight hole of Goro’s pussy.

One hand had held Goro’s head down, the other keeping the Beta’s ass up with a death grip as he chased after his own orgasm. Goro had tightened so much around him that Akira almost reached his own end there, but there was _something_ about watching the Beta squirm and slump down to relax for just a single _second_ before he began yelling with pleasurable overstimulation— and it was just the sight he marvelled at once his cock found Goro’s sweet spot once more, fucked it hard and rough in the way Goro so _loved_ as Akira watched him moan and groan into the sheets, his brows slanted in concentration and his body drenched in sweat.

With no Akira to hold onto now, Goro’s hands balled into the covers, bunching the fabric up in his fists as the overstimulated bliss crept up on him. His hair was a wild mess under Akira’s hand, his pussy tightening around Akira with the Alpha’s more-than-impressive size. He was mewling and yelping, and yet his voice had been muffled by the sheets. From his thighs, he could already feel his own juices drip down— Both from having just cum, and because of the rigorous in and out of Akira’s cock.

The wet slaps and squelching of his own fluids being pounded out of him left Goro a whining, horny, _desperately in need of being bred_ mess.

“That’s right, love..” Akira growled, close to Goro’s ear now, “Keep cumming for me..”

He could feel the Alpha’s body heat on his back even through the fabric of his dress shirt, Akira’s overwhelmingly-sweet coffee and dahlias invading whatever senses he had left.

“You smell so _good_ , treasure..”

Could only shiver in delight as Akira’s lips brushed up against the shell of his ear.

“So _tight_..”

And shake as Akira emphasised his words by fucking him harder.

“I wanna breed you so bad, Goro..”

“ _Akira.._ ”

“Wanna—” he grunted, Goro being _acutely_ aware of the throbbing in his hole now, “Wanna make you _pregnant_ —”

Akira’s lips moved to the nape of his neck, not wasting a second to bite down.

“Want you to take all my cum—”

And again.

“Want you to have my pups—”

Once more.

“Treasure— _Fuck_ , treasure—!”

All until he’d buried his teeth so deep into Goro’s skin that he could vaguely feel the pain, the blood seeping out of his neck.

But it was all numb under another wave of orgasm crashing over him, the feeling of something familiarly hot and sticky spilling deep into his pussy, the sound of Akira’s muffled voice against his neck.

“Shit! _Take it_ , love! Take all my cum, just like _that_ —”

Before he cut himself off with a low, drawn-out groan, his hips slamming against Goro’s in one, two, _five_ more thrusts until he stilled, shaking, _clutching_ onto Goro.

A whine left Goro as the Alpha slumped into a shaky, clinging weight above him, his cock still buried within Goro, the beginnings of a knot already swelling just past Goro’s entrance, and Akira’s climax painting his insides. Faintly, he could already feel it spilling out through the little gaps between his dick and Goro’s walls, would sigh contentedly as he rolled onto his side and kept holding the brunette close, face buried into chestnut locks.

It would be a while before they would be able to separate, so Akira made to pull the covers over their naked bodies after tugging off Goro’s shirt and throwing it onto the floor. Skinship always made the post-sex afterglow all the better, if not because it soothed the natural instincts within Akira to _protect his mate_ and _keep his mate feeling safe_ , then because Goro Akechi had always been a cuddle bug.

With their breaths heaving slow and deep now, Akira inhaled the sweet air of Goro’s scent, an arm wrapped around Goro’s stomach and keeping him close; Likewise, Goro had laid his hands upon Akira’s arm, turned his head to face Akira now.

The kiss that met their lips felt natural, a slow, sloppy, and tired brush to end their tryst— something that reminded the both of them of times past, of café attics and hiding on Shujin’s rooftops whenever they could.

It’d been so long since he tasted Goro— he was still addicted.

“Stay the night..” Goro mumbled, settled back into his previous position for comfort. In response, Akira kissed the back of his neck, over all the bite marks he’d left in a primal-driven reflex to _mark his mate_ and _attempt to bond_.

“I will.”

Goro curled into himself, only a twitch at first that made Akira’s eyes snap up to his head. Slowly, though, he realised that Goro was curling into the arm that Akira had wrapped around him, was grasping at his hand.

“Don’t leave me again..”

And Akira, coming into sobriety after the high of orgasm, would shuffle just a _bit_ closer, hug him just a _bit_ tighter. When he’d slotted as much as he could against the curves of Goro’s body, he’d lay his chin on the Beta’s shoulder, the guilt seeping into his eyes before he’d closed them altogether.

“I’m sorry.”

The night ended as Goro kept whispering his quiet pleads, asked Akira again and again not to go, not to leave him, and Akira suspected he was still drunk. Still though, he never missed a beat doing his best to reassure Goro, held him tighter and kissed him when the brunette had needed it, murmured the words he knew would calm the beast in Goro’s heart.

But then again, he was the one who’d planted that beast there in the first place. Did Akira Kurusu have the right to even try quieting its anxious cries?

Maybe he did, maybe not at all.

He was a fucking hypocrite.

As the sun rose, so too did Goro Akechi fall into a restless sleep— Akira watching him for a bit, breathing with him, simply taking in the moments while he still could.

Because he was sure that when the Beta awoke, their night would only cement the wall between them further.

It was all his fault, but he would still take what he can.

Akira left one, last kiss on Goro’s shoulder as he closed his eyes, and sleep found him with memories of years past.

* * *

“Senpai—”

Red eyes peered up at him from the studying materials laid upon his table, smile stretching up his lips almost on autopilot— It reached his eyes just a bit late, only when he’d registered that it was Akira who stood above him in the midst of the library.

“Oh, hello Kurusu.”

“Hi!”

He got a few shushes from the students around them, could only chuckle (quietly) as Goro fixed him with an almost-admonishing stare.

It was _almost_ believable, but Akira already knew the nuances of those brilliant eyes.

“I was uh..” Akira stuck his thumb out towards the shelves behind him, faux-sheepish smile easy on his lips, “I was hoping you could help me find references for Miss Kawakami’s class. Can I ask you to lead me to the _good stuff_?”

There was a second in which Goro had only looked back and forth between _him_ , and the shelves in the corner of the library. Akira had no doubt that he knew what he was _really_ asking for here, that Goro had already read between the lines of his request far before Akira could even finish speaking.  
Even sill, as if to tease Akira, he’d leaned a cheek onto his gloved hands, smile climbing up his cheeks incredulously. Goro _knew_ that the way his hair fell over his face in that oh so _delicate_ way did things to Akira, so it was all the more reason for him to brush a single lock behind his ear— which was, admittedly, _worse_.

Akira could feel his fingers twitch within his pockets.

“You’re top of your class, aren’t you, Kurusu? I think you’re more than capable of recognising the good books on your own by now.”

_Oh, you’re **on**. _

“ _May be_ , but _nothing_ is better than a senpai’s recommendation.” He shrugged, the action looking effortless as his grin widened. “Specifically, I think _your_ recommendations are really good, senpai— That’s why I asked _you_.”

Akira looked at him in the eyes with his challenge.

“ _Really_ now?”

Goro stared at him right back, with just as much (if not _more_ ) ferocity in the fire of those red irises.

“ _Indubitably_.”

One of them twitched at Akira’s half-assed impersonation of him, all before Goro stood up with the annoyance just _barely_ veiled behind his overly-bright smile.

“Well then. I guess I have no choice _now_ , do I?”

He walked ahead, only chancing one last, longing glance at Akira before he disappeared behind the shelves. Akira followed behind not too long after.

As Goro reached for the shelves and piled books in his arms, Akira sneaked a kiss onto his lips with every reference he got— Each time, with Goro’s face flushing in that too-adorable way, with Goro scolding him when he lingered, and when Akira stretched up to grab a book sitting on a particularly-unreachable place, with Goro grabbing onto the lapel of his school jacket and pulling him into a kiss himself.

He sat next to Goro the rest of the afternoon after that, secretly holding his hand under the table when it seemed like no one was looking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> h o o boy that was  
> a wild ride 
> 
> beta goro has a lil dick fite me   
> also a pussy :^0   
> he is my intersex babie and it's all going according to plan askjfashdjkafh 
> 
> idk what to say rn y'all i been working on this all day so here's the listen list (and also,,, where i got chapter title from) 
> 
> flower face - angela


	3. Loved like fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [.. burning fire in our hearts.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=06OLRJuiI1s)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags updated !!!

The moment he woke up, he knew it was going to be a shitty day.

It was hard to pinpoint an exact reason when he’d just opened his eyes, blearily staring up at his blank ceiling with a drill pounding into his skull and the _extreme need_ to vomit lingering in his gut. Almost immediately, he’d noticed the weight of a body next to his own, buried underneath the duvets and only the slightest of a rise and fall making it evident that the person had been plunged into a deep sleep— and that particular thing wasn’t all too surprising, because gods knew that bartender was hot shit and Goro wanted to get pounded by Alpha cock again.

No, it wasn’t because he’s missed having _Alpha cock_ in specific, just..

_Stop it._

Goro needed to stop thinking about his drunk hook-ups again. More specifically, _the reason_ why he did them. All he needed right now was to get a shitload of painkillers into his system.

With a groan, he’d push himself up to sit, hands gripping onto the bed to keep himself upright and the world to stop spinning. Though most of his senses were blocked off by the hangover, he could still vaguely feel the man he’d slept with shift among the sheets, a low, quiet (almost inaudible) groan lulling into the air.

He wasn’t quite sure if that groan was his own, or from the Alpha.

But _fuck_ was he glad he decided to get shitfaced drunk before his day off.

The air remained quiet after a brief rustling of the sheets, Goro slowly (but steadily) getting onto his feet. It was only in that _exact_ moment did his headache choose to hammer harder into his head, and the second he felt his heart drop to his stomach, he _ran_.

Nights like the previous were so ingrained into his weekly schedule that Goro quickly found himself in the bathroom, down on his knees and clutching the edges of the toilet bowl. The tips of his hair stained quickly with both spit and vomit as he retched out the contents of his stomach, migraine worsening, throat hoarser and scratchier than when he’d woken up, and deciding that he was _never_ going to drink again.

But that was a vow he’d made time and time before— A vow he’d broken as many times, if not more.

Caught up in his own suffering, he was too late to catch the presence of another looming over him, senses too blocked off to take a whiff of that rich whiskey smell that so lured him the night previous. There was still gratitude there, though, as the man brushed his hair back whilst the rest of his stomach chucked itself out and into the toilet.

“Thanks..”

The Alpha remained quiet, only giving his head a quick pet after releasing his hair.

As Goro closed the toilet lid and flushed down his vomit, he’d find that the man was quick to leave, the steps padding farther and farther away being the only signal that he was getting out of Goro’s apartment already.

Yup. That didn’t surprise Goro much; They’d pretty much broken the first rule of hook-ups.

You never stayed the night after the sex was done.

Somehow, by the good grace of whatever God up there that didn’t find humour amidst Goro Akechi’s suffering, he managed to pull himself up using whatever surface was near him in the bathroom, staggering his way over to the sink. Slumped over and dead inside, his reflection stared back at him in the mirror— at the man aged twenty-four, with brunette hair sticking up at almost-impossible angles, eyes coloured rust and barely staying open, looking years older than he actually was from all the stress and the hangover.

 _God_ , he looked like shit. Like a rotting piece of run-over roadkill. It almost matched exactly how he felt.

It took a Herculean amount of effort before Goro managed to balance himself enough to open the medicine cabinet from the mirror, fingers making for the painkillers sitting on the corner of the very bottom shelf. Popping them out of the containers, he nearly smashed his head into the mirror trying to wrench the knob of the sink around.

Jesus Christ, he was a mess.

“Hey—”

A water bottle was placed beside him, cap off.

“Drink up.”

But if Goro was already drinking off of it, he would’ve spat the water and the painkillers out anyway.

Head snapping over his shoulder ( _far_ too quick for his migraine to agree with him) he came face-to-face with the man he _never_ wanted to see again.  
Akira Kurusu stood there, just an arm’s length away from the bathroom door, in nothing but his jeans from the night previous and with his eyes down to the floor. Goro was unsure whether it was the hangover or not, but the Alpha’s face looked anxious, _crestfallen_ — like he’d been dreading this moment.

And _gods fucking dammit_ , when it all clicked into place in his tired, beaten brain.

“We—” Goro stuttered, managing to convince himself that it was from the hangover and not the _shock_ , “We SLEPT TOGETHER?!”

Because the Gods above wanted to get a kick out of his reaction, too, that was the _exact_ moment he felt something sticky and hot start to trickle down his thighs.

“We did.”

 _Damn_ Akira for saying it so _simply_ like that.

“We—”

_YOU’RE SO FUCKING DUMB! YOU’RE SUCH A FUCKING **IDIOT**! _

“Holy fuck, we—”

Goro gripped the edge of the sink tighter.

“We _fucked_ , Goro.”

He didn’t know if hearing it helped or not— Actually, _no_ , it just made things _worse_.

Turning back to face the mirror, he shoved the painkillers into his mouth, downed it with the water Akira left by his side— and it was then that he noticed his neck.

Dark spots and bruises littered most of his throat, some bright red bites engraved into his skin. Tilting his head, he’d find more hickeys trailed to his nape, slid his eyes down to his shoulders where even _more_ bitemarks mottled his body. How _hard_ did they go at it?!

_Well.. We always **did** have the best sex.. _

No! No, he shouldn’t be thinking about that!

_And he always **was** the possessive type.. _

That didn’t mean shit.

_And these marks are.._

Okay, _no_. No, no, absolute to the fuck _no_. Goro was going to stop himself right there.

As the painkillers began kicking into his system, Goro breathed a lungful of air through his nose, exhaling slowly as he turned and leaned back against the sink. His arms came to cross across his chest, and whether it was to hide what skin he could or because he couldn’t let himself face Akira as vulnerable like that— Well, that was a secret that he was going to take to the grave.

There was a good amount of distance put between them, and even if Goro _was_ still naked to his bones with Akira’s cum dripping out of his pussy and possessive marks painting his skin, _goddammit_ was he determined to be an adult about this.

It was just hooking up.

They were _drunk._

It meant nothing.

That didn’t stop the anger from boiling his blood, though.

“What happened.”

Akira hadn’t exactly avoided looking him in the eye—it was more like he’d focus on Goro’s face, and then gaze down upon the floor, and then back up—but when he’d stood there, he never swayed once, didn’t even seem like he had a hangover.

Damn these Alphas and their ridiculous genes.

“We fucked,” he began, slowly, his voice even and yet the look in those obsidian irises was nervous, “We got _way_ too drunk at the bar and then I think we took a taxi here? I’m just.. pretty sure that we fucked.”

_How could he be so calm about this?!_

“And I assume you were just as uninhibited as _I_ was?”

The Alpha chuckled, albeit it was dry and humourless— and somehow, the saccharine tones of his laugh, and the way his words laced with cynicism, just made Goro clench his hands into fists, a scowl forming upon his face.

“Look, I know I’m a fucking asshole but I wouldn’t take advantage of anyone. We were both drunk— it just happened.”

“ _”I wouldn’t take advantage of anyone,”_ my fucking _ass_.”

Goro didn’t even stop himself from seething, his voice laced with nothing but _venom_. Akira Kurusu was at the very top of the fucking list for “ _most hypocritical people_ ” in the planet.

Still, though, even as Goro openly glared daggers at him, Akira looked steady, _calm_ — Stoic, even. But Goro knows— _knew_ —him too well not to be able to read into the little details of his expression.  
He knew that Akira was trying to hold back from yelling at him in that exact moment. The slightest downturn of his brows, and the scent of dahlias rotting and coffee smelling too bitter betrayed his demeanour. Goro _knew_ him.

“You don’t get to say that to my face.”

And he didn’t know what in the ever-loving _fuck_ he was doing.

“You of all people don’t have the _right_ to say you wouldn’t take advantage of anyone.”

He didn’t know why he crossed the distance between them.

“ _You fucking cheated on me._ ”

But Akira’s eyes slowly unravelled.

“You used me for _two fucking years_ —”

And the frown on his lips deepened.

“Threw me away when an Omega opened up her _pussy_ for you—”

And with just one more word.

“ _You_.”

One more sentence.

“Are the biggest hypocrite in the fucking world.”

And just one more breath.

“ _Goro_.”

Akira Kurusu looked as feral as the Alpha Goro _knew_ he was.

“Stop talking.”

 _Oh_ , Akira was _beyond_ pissed. It was evident in how he strained to keep his tone that calm and even cadence, obvious with how his browns now knitted together. Goro eyed up at him, his lips set in an all too bitter smirk.

“What, you don’t want to talk to me _now_? When I’m _right in front of your face_?”

“ _No_ ,” Akira muttered, the single word coming out hard and _restrained_ , “ _You_ should stop talking.”

“Or _what_ , Kurusu?”

They came to a standstill, the challenges present in their stares.

At this close of a proximity, it was clear as day how Akira’s jaw hardened, was easy to see the little, subtle flecks of dark chocolate in his eyes. Goro was invaded by the smell of rotted dahlias and too-strong coffee— the scent he knew clung to each hickey and every bitemark that littered his skin.

He so detested knowing he smelled like Akira Kurusu.

“You’re going to regret it.”

Goro leaned closer to him, forced Akira to _face him_.

“You used me for my pussy and my ass, _Kurusu_ ”—he spat the word in the Alpha’s face—“I think we both know I regret _ever_ meeting you in the first place by now.”

And that was when it happened.

Though the throbbing in his head had dulled to an ache, Goro was still heavily uneven on his feet— So when Akira forced his body back against the wall, Goro heard the _SLAM_ first before feeling the pain.  
The world spun around him for a second, and then _two_ , all before he refocused back on Akira’s eyes just inches away from his own. Around his neck, he felt the vice grip of the man’s hand coiled hard to keep him in place, and without even looking, Goro already knew his other fist was shaking.

Still, the smirk on his face remained.

“Do it.”

Akira didn’t speak a word, and so Goro dug his hands into the other’s arm, eyes just _egging him on_.

“ _Do it._ ”

He felt the hand tighten around his throat.

“ _Kurus_ —!”

Just as he began seeing white spots float amongst his vision, though, all see saw next was an all-encompassing, all-devouring _black_.

“ _Mh—!_ Stop—”

Akira didn’t stop.

Oh _no_ , he didn’t stop at _all_.

As his lips mashed against Goro’s, there was more than just a bit of anger in his kisses— in the way he held Goro in place and pushed into him all in the same breath.  
And Goro didn’t know why, _exactly_ , he didn’t push Akira away. Sure, he could (and would) lie, say that it would be futile when the strength of an enraged Alpha could already so easily hold a mere Beta down with one arm— but at the same time, there was also that sharp smell of coffee flowing into his nostrils, making his head spin dizzy more than any amount of alcohol ever could.

It was _intoxicating_.

When a knee found its way between his legs, Goro knew he was gone.

“I know you want this as much as I do,” Akira mumbled, the scent of booze, sweat, and dahlias _invading_ Goro’s every sense, “Admit it.”

But just because Goro knew a heady cloud fogged around his brain, didn’t mean that he’d back down so easily.

“Go to Hell, Kurusu.”

If only he still had any bark left in him to make the statement bite.

The knee pressed against his crotch began kneading. Bared and naked, fire bloomed across his cock and his pussy so much _easier_. Goro felt it spike up his spine and deep into his core.

“ _Shit_..”

“You’re already dripping for me, darling.”

Goro dug his nails further into the arm below him, glare a dull-edged blade.

“Fuck you..”

But that only seemed to make Akira’s lips curl up into that oh-so-bastardly (and oh so _delicious_ ) smirk, head tilting just the tiniest bit as he eyed Goro up.

“That’s what I’m trying to do, you desperate fucking slut.”

Oh.

Oh _fuck_.

Akira still remembered how absolutely _depraved_ Goro got off of that old nickname.

Easily, just like _that_ , and with a snap of Akira’s fingers, Goro was turned around and grasping at the wall. Though his cheek pressed against the paint, Akira’s fingers were quick to work their magic on him, one hand coming around to rub and pinch at Goro’s nipple while the other slicked up and down Goro’s juices— his aching, throbbing, _painfully needy_ cunt.

“So wet for me, darling..” Akira cooed, lips all but brushing up against Goro’s ear, “How long have you wanted me to fuck you again, mh?”

“N.. Not in a long— _AH_!”

Akira bit the shell of his ear, clearly not pleased with the answer Goro was going to give him.

“Try again— and tell me the truth. You know your master doesn’t like being lied to, whore.”

Gods _damn_ this man in particular.

Still, though, Goro shuddered out a breath, eyes squeezing shut as he felt Akira tease the slit being presented right before him.

“ _So_ long..” he rasped, in-between pants and groans, “Wanted your big Alpha cock in me for _so long_.. _Alpha.._ ”

“That’s more like it.”

Akira rewarded him with two fingers slipping into his pussy.

Though he knew that Goro could (and _has_ ) taken in his cock before with absolutely no prep beforehand, Akira was more than definitely exerting his revenge as he teased Goro— scissoring his fingers, wriggling them against the _exact_ spot that made Goro see stars, brushing up against his sweet spot and yet never _truly_ focusing on it all the same.

Though years have already come and passed, this man still knew how to break Goro Akechi down into a whining, desperate mess. The more he moved, the more Goro felt himself slipping down the wall, only being reminded to keep himself up when Akira pinched and twisted his nipple particularly hard.

He still took his sweet time opening Goro up, even going so far as to slip a third digit inside as Goro whined at the feeling of those long fingers working him to his peak.

It was slow, _torturous_ , and yet Goro revelled in the haze clouding his brain and making his thoughts spin— all until he had nothing else to think about but _cock_.

“ _Please_ —”

“Please, _what_?”

Goro turned his head just a bit more, looking Akira in the eye though his own were half-lidded and treading dangerously close to shutting entirely once more.

“ _Fuck me_..”

But his plead only made Akira laugh— the sound ringing in Goro’s ears sardonically, _sarcastically_.

“Oh?” he hummed, fingers sliding out of Goro’s hole, “What happened to hating me, huh? What happened to _never wanting to see me again_?”

_God **fucking**..! _

“I _don’t care_ about that anymore!” Goro yelled all the same, “ _Please_! I just want your cock right _now_! I _need_ it!”

Akira clicked his tongue, the hand that previously fingered Goro now coming to undo his jeans.  
Goro’s eyes caught on the thick, hard cock freed from his bottoms, felt himself lick his lips in anticipation before biting down on his bottom lip entirely as Akira lined it up against his pussy.

The head prodded there, just _right_ in front of his gaping hole— and yet Akira made no move to slip it in, didn’t even give any indication that he was going to fuck Goro until Goro was begging for no one but _him_ even as the brunette pushed his hips back.

“ _Please_ —!”

Akira leaned close to his ear once more, chest pressing against Goro’s back as his hand planted on the spot of the wall next to Goro’s head.

“Tell me you want me,” he whispered, low and with his voice catching on that _roughness_ that Goro so loved, “ _Say_ it.” 

“Ah—”

Akira angled his cock so it was merely sliding against Goro’s slit.

“ _Say it_ ,” he _growled_ , the scowl just _audible_ in his words and making Goro shiver, “ _Say_ that you want me, Goro.”

There it was— that big Alpha cock Goro so craved for, poking just at his entrance again. He dangled the pleasure right above Goro’s head (or in this case, _right in front of where he needed it_ ) and Goro was swimming in the pleasure that blocked off every rational thought in his head. He kept pushing his hips back, kept biting his lip as Akira did more and more to nudge his cock past the lips that dripped with cum.

“Akiraa..”

Finally, when it all became too much for Goro (all the teasing, all the _barely-there_ pleasure that he _needed_ ) he released his lip and uttered that one word— that one _name_.

The one that he never thought he’d say again, much less in the tone he’d whined it with _now_.

“ _Akira_.. I _need_ you— Please, _Akira_ , fuck me— I want your cock so bad!”

And then, with just that, the Alpha began to press the head of his cock inside— the sheer fullness that began filling him making Goro _squeal_.

“Akira—! Please, gimme more! I wanna be full! I wanna be filled with Akira’s cum, _please_!”

Akira himself growled lowly as he slowly pushed the rest of his cock inside—or at least, what he remembered Goro could take—and the _feel_ of Goro’s pussy again, wrapping around his dick.. Goro’s heat enveloping him and _taking_ him..

“ _God_ , darling— Still so fucking _tight_..”

“Akira, _more_..!”

Oh, his little darling always _was_ the needy type, wasn’t he?

Akira snapped his hips forward, driving most of his dick into Goro— and he could only smirk, triumphant and _cocky_ , at the sound of Goro shuddering in delight at his size.

“Yes! ‘Kira, so _good_ —!”

He was already twitching beneath Akira, his perfect goddamn ass shaking as he tried to push more into himself. At his darling’s need, Akira inched the rest of his cock inside, sighed in relief and bit his lip in the pleasure of finally _getting all of his cock into Goro_.

And vaguely, from the back of his head, Akira questioned how Goro could even take it all now, when his tight little hole could never even come _close_ to taking all ten inches in the past.

But he shoved that thought aside.

He didn’t want to think about it.

Not when Goro was already bucking his hips and trying to fuck himself on Akira’s cock under him.

Both hands slithered down to grasp onto the brunette’s hips, his nails digging into the pale, sensitive flesh— all before Akira slid out most of his length.

“Akira..” Goro panted, a single look of _wanting_ sent Akira’s way as he turned his head, “Don’t be gentle..”

That was all Akira needed to hear.

As per Goro’s request, Akira didn’t even start slow and steady— he went as hard and rough and fast as he damn well pleased.  
Goro’s body rocked beneath him, pleasured shouts and moans pounded out of those plump, luscious lips with each in and out that Akira made. Each inch fed into him felt like flames licking at his skin, but it was a fire that Goro so willingly _burned in_ as he pushed his hips in time with Akira’s thrusts, as he yelled out his encouragements and the string of “ _Akira yes!_ ” and “ _Akira more!_ ”

His tongue had already found itself leaving more than a few, long dribbles of spit down his chin, lips looking eternally-quirked up in a wide grin as he was fucked _mercilessly_ and _hard_. The pain that bloomed from where Akira’s nails dug into his flesh only heightened the pleasure and heat tenfold, and when one of Akira’s hands slipped around him once more—only to stop and start kneading at Goro’s small, hard cock—Goro was gone and drowned in the depths of lust.

“ _Yes_! Yes, Akira! Akira, feels so _good_! Akira, I love your cock so _much_!”

If he looked down, Goro would see the rather large bulge protruding from his belly up to just below his navel— but _gods_ knew Goro couldn’t even open his eyes once he’d shut them closed, wanting to revel in the wet slaps of their skin smacking together, wanting to _feel_ each twitch of pleasure coursing throughout his body as Akira went faster, _faster_ , rough and hard _just_ the way Goro loved taking cock.  
From the position, Akira fucked nowhere but into his sweet spot, each brush against it making Goro positively _shiver_ in both delight and bliss. Even as years have come and passed, Akira, as it seemed, still knew how to push each of Goro’s buttons— knew just where to touch and just where to rub for Goro to see the stars and Heaven above.

Pleasure flooded his body like hot liquid gold, each touch of Akira’s hands and each moan breathed out of both of them like a track that couldn’t stop on loop, like a drug that Goro was absolutely _addicted_ to. His hook-ups were, admittedly, _good_ — but _god_ , none of them could even come anywhere _close_ to making him feel what Akira had always made him dizzy with whenever they fucked.

Akira’s cock was too good, too much of an expert at making Goro scream into the wall, and soon, he felt the bowstring-tight knot pulling taut in his core coming to a _snap_.

“AH—! _YES_! YES, YES, _YES_ AKIRA! DON’T STOP! _PLEASE_ , DON’T STOP!”

“That’s— _oh—_ That’s it, darling—” Akira panted, lips to the shell of Goro’s ear, “Keep cumming for me—”

The hand rubbing Goro’s cock teased it in time to the buck of the brunette’s hips, desperate to stay in the high just a _little_ bit longer, make it feel a _little_ better than it already was. With nowhere else to grasp, his fingers tensed and clawed at the wall, all as his body shook and writhed with the continued thrusts being fed to his greedy pussy.

But even after his orgasm faded into its descent, Goro wasn’t given a chance to breathe.

Slipping out of him, all Goro could do was whine as he felt his legs start to give beneath him— but then Akira took hold of his thighs next, lifted him up easily, and then Goro’s back was pressed against the wall as he felt himself being lowered to Akira’s cock.

There, under the mercy of gravity, Akira fucked into him harder than Goro thought he could take. He was already crying out in the overstimulation, nails scraping against the skin of Akira’s shoulders as he tried to make any _sense_ of what was happening anymore.

It felt so _good_ (almost felt _too_ good) as he held onto Akira, the only tether he really had in this world of nothing but paralysing pleasure and endless groans. All he knew, in that moment, was the feel of thick Alpha cock driving in and out of him, the fingers leaving bruises onto his thighs with the strength of which Akira squeezed them— those dark eyes, focused on nothing else but _him_ , lost under the haze of bliss and the wet squelch of their hips meeting.

He could get drunk on the mere _sight_ of Goro Akechi— eyes half-lidded and barely open, mouth agape with the constant of “ _YES_!” and “ _AKIRA_!” coming out so _sinfully_ with his voice, those ever-captivating red irises looking dunked in all the stimulation being given to him.

Watching him, the snap of Akira’s hips reached a fever pitch.  
Beneath his breath, he’d mumble all the praises and sin-laced nothings (once recognised as world-filled somethings) his mind could currently think of; He’d keep his eyes on Goro, on those eyes widening just the slightest bit in realisation; His muscles tensed, his cock throbbing as he fucked Goro faster, harder, _rougher_.

“ _Shit_ — Goro—!”

Akira dived forwards, lips crashing onto Goro’s in a bruising mess of kisses and sucks as their moans blurred between their breaths. Akira snapped his hips once more, twice more, _five times_ more, until he settled himself fully into Goro in a last act of sheathing his entire size within him.

Even as he felt his cum start to fill Goro’s sweet, delectable pussy, and even _as_ he felt his knot start to well within Goro, Akira made no move to pull out before they were bound for another twenty minutes; Instead, he continued to suck, lick, nip, and kiss Goro’s lips, pink from all the attention like the flush that scattered throughout Goro’s cheeks and neck.

He was a neck-blusher— It used to be one of the things he so loved to praise and tease Goro about, so loved the heat radiating beneath his lips when he used to shower it with kisses.

Panting, they tried to gather their breaths. Goro slumped against the wall, face written in nothing but _fucked-out bliss_ , as Akira did his best to keep Goro up with the sheer strength of his arms alone.

Eventually, though, Akira started to feel his arms start to give out amongst the heavy rise and fall of his chest, the deep breaths he took as he tried to _calm down_ and regain any brain cells he had left. He moved them back to Goro’s bedroom, parked ass at the edge of the bed, before falling onto his back entirely as Goro laid atop his chest.

It took a few seconds, but eventually Goro gathered enough wits to look up at him, chin resting on the dip between Akira’s collarbones.

“This isn’t anything.”

_Of course._

Akira averted his eyes, opting to look to the wall instead.

“I know,” he mumbled, still out of breath but keeping his tone even, “It was good, though.”

There was something in Goro’s eyes, once Akira actually managed to glance down at him. He wouldn’t have too much hope here (because really, Akira wouldn’t forgive himself, too) but Akira at least wanted to believe that it was something like _agreement_.

The gruff hum that reverberated from above him sounded like it, too.

“.. It was,” Goro finally relented, cheek pressed to Akira’s chest as he, too, avoided looking at Akira directly, “Took some of the edge off.”

And there, in the back of his mind (which jumped to the forefront much too quickly) was a thought that Akira _knew_ he should never even have _suggested_.

“What if you could take the edge off every now and then?”

But his tongue formed the words before he could even backspace on that thought completely.

Incredulous, just a bit disbelieving and more than a lot irritated, Goro’s eyes shot back up to him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

His words were laced with the same emotions, as well as a hint of anger, a _scintilla_ of interest.

Akira could still read him so _easily_ that it was scary.

“I mean—” Akira swallowed, eyes to Goro’s and unblinking, “You would if you could. You enjoyed it.”

He just _knew_ that Goro was cursing him with the power of every god in existence in that exact moment.

But Akira didn’t yield.

For one, he’d admit that his reasons for prompting such an idea were _selfish_ , sure— but getting a taste of Goro Akechi once again, after _years_ of starving, was just as addicting as the first time around. He was incredible, perfect in every way, felt so good ( _too_ good) around Akira that Akira was but the lulled Eve and Goro was his forbidden fruit.

And besides..

He hasn’t really felt this alive since that one day, just over five years ago.

They were at a standstill.

A pause.

Goro stared at Akira with the thoughts just _swirling_ amongst those stunning, red irises, as Akira all but returned his gaze with his own beckoning, _wanting_.

It was only when Akira felt his knot die down and Goro slipped off of him did Goro part his lips once more, a shiver-wrapped word that fell from his tongue.

“ _Fine_.”

Laying there, just inches away from Akira, Goro turned on his side to once again look the other man in the eyes— and Akira never voiced it out, but the sight of Goro Akechi in that exact moment (his hair a mess, his legs curling up to his chest above the messed sheets, marks littering his skin) triggered something of a memory to flash behind his eyes. 

Something a little like what he saw on most weekend mornings and holiday nights, so very long ago. 

“If you only used me for my body in Shujin, then you might as well be honest with what you want from me _now_ , huh?”

But _damn_ , he really couldn’t go without getting the last stab in, could he?

Still, though, Akira only shrugged, tried to make it look nonchalant and casual.

He knew this was a bad idea. He knew that becoming fuck buddies when they were _exes_ was actually a _very bad idea_.

But did that stop him?

The answer may (not) surprise you.

He already made his mind once Goro straddled his hips, settled just centimetres from his dick— which still stood hard and ready for another round.. Or three.

“If we’re going to do this..” Goro sighed, perfect goddamn asscheeks rubbing against Akira’s cock and making him _groan_ , “Then I have rules.”

They spent the rest of the morning (and most of the afternoon) establishing those rules, putting them to use— until Goro physically passed out after all the orgasms had taken their toll on his body and he was but a slack mess of cum and sweat atop his sheets.

Akira made sure to clean him up once he slid out, coming easily now that he had the tiniest piece of mind not to slam himself all the way in during his last orgasm. It was only after he tucked Goro in did he start to get dressed, a last, longing look sent to the man on his bed before he’d closed the bedroom door.

Making sure to lock the front door once again, he snuck out of Goro’s apartment— only a piece of paper with his number on it being left behind.

* * *

“ _Holy fuck_..”

It was more a prayer and a breath than anything else.

Akira’s eyes were wide and his breath got stuck in his throat the moment Goro laid bare beneath him. At that point, he’d _just_ slid the other boy’s school pants and underwear off of those gorgeous legs, thrown them from his bed as he kneeled over Goro.

God fucking _damn_ , it was like he knelt in prayer— Goro was an _angel_.

“Don’t stare so much..”

His eyes only trailed back up the brunette’s bare chest, up to meet his eyes, when he heard Goro’s voice whisper into the quiet air between them. In that moment, all Akira could really hear was the war drum-pounding of his heartbeats in his ears—anxious, _excited_ , all in the same breath—but Goro’s embarrassed whimper had gotten through to him.

Snickering, he’d place his hands on the mattress, it creaking as he leaned forwards— all until their lips met in a gentle kiss. Akira felt warmth bloom from his chest, fire spreading wherever Goro’s hands roamed on the naked skin.

“That’s an unreasonable request, don’t you think?” he chuckled, lips brushing up against Goro’s, eyes on ruby-reds, “How can I look away when you’re so _beautiful_ , treasure?”

And it looked like Goro’s face was feeling the flames, too. Naked now, bare and with Akira’s eyes free to travel wherever he wanted, he noticed the red tinting Goro’s face first, and saw the pink tingeing his neck second.

Those hands (gloveless, now) wandered up to the back of his head, and he felt Goro begin to play with the curls of his hair.

“You’re so embarrassingly _cheesy_..” Goro huffed, bottom lip jutted out in just the most _adorable_ pout, “I can’t believe I’m in love with you.”

But he pushed Akira in towards him in a kiss, anyway.

Akira laughed as he left loving, little pecks around Goro’s face afterwards, only allowed one hand to start memorising each inch of Goro’s skin once Goro wrapped his legs around Akira’s waist. Chancing a glance down, for just a _second_ , he found that his hand stopped _just_ above Goro’s sex.

It was only when Goro gave him the go-ahead (from just a single look, a single _plead_ in his eyes that clearly spelled his want for this) that Akira gulped, hand shaking as it finally descended upon where Goro needed him _most_.

“ _Ah_ —!”

“Gentler?”

Goro shook his head, profuse in his movements.

“ _No_ —” he _squeaked_ , “No, keep going—”

 _Gods_ , was his boyfriend adorable.

It took a little bit of Akira simply rubbing his fingers against Goro’s clit, but just as his hand lowered by the _slightest bit_ more, he felt it— just how drenched Goro had become.

He cast one more look into Goro’s eyes, and when he found them closed, he’d plant a kiss on Goro’s chin, on his lips.

“Can I?” he murmured, index finger rubbing against the lips that dripped with juice below.

“ _Yes_ ,” Goro shot back, almost im _mediately_ , “ _Please_ , Akira..”

Akira began to kiss his lover’s neck, all as his slick-coated finger began to slip into Goro’s pussy for the first time.

He made sure to be gentle, made sure to start sliding his digit in and out slowly once he felt Goro loosen up with the little distractions he planted around the brunette’s skin.  
Goro was _tight_ , so very hot that Akira thought his finger was being burned within the first few seconds. Still, though, each time he thrusted his digit made Goro tighten those legs around him just a little bit more, just a little more _desperately_ — and when Akira brushed up against a spot that swelled against his finger, Goro’s back arched and his voice cried out in bliss.

“Right _there_!”

Oh, how could he deny Goro so, when he pleaded with Akira like that?

Akira found that spot again— and he made sure to focus on it. Each rub made Goro moan louder, each in and out making the other boy’s walls tighten around him yet loosen at the same time. When he was _sure_ that Goro was relaxed enough, he added another finger in.

“ _Oh_ —”

And that, as it seemed, made Goro feel all the better.

 _Gods_ , he was already so painfully _hard_ still trapped within his uniform pants, but just the sight of Goro Akechi writhing atop his sheets like that, his hands curling against Akira’s chest as he whispered “ _Akira_ ” after “ _Akira_ ”— it was more than enough for him, as he made his second attempt at loosening up Goro’s pussy enough for his dick to fit.

Because, well.. Akira has already figured out that he’s larger than some.

And he didn’t want to hurt Goro, when they’ve both wanted this for so _long_ already.

Hell, some would say that they _sure_ took their sweet-ass time waiting almost a _year_ into dating before they even started to become this intimate with each other, but Goro wasn’t ready to let anyone touch him like this and Akira was _more_ than nervous to lay his hands upon Goro and potentially hurt him and _oh god_ what if he _did_ scare Goro off with the size of his dick and—

“Akiraa..”

Goro’s voice, once more, snapped him out of his own head.

He hadn’t realised how much Goro already loosened around his fingers.

“That’s enough already.. I _need_ you..”

Those words made him stop altogether— eyes wide, lips parted, and jaw slack. It took a few seconds and Goro brushing his hand up against Akira’s cheek did his soul return to his body.

“Are you sure, love?” he mumbled, forehead resting on Goro’s, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

In response, Goro nodded— enthusiastic.

“ _Please_.” God _damn_ , Goro could make him do _anything_ with just a look of his eyes. “I wanna feel you already— I want you so _much_ —”

There was just a moment’s worth of silence as Akira breathed to himself, stared into the deep abyss of Goro’s eyes. There was still a bit of hesitancy there, more than a lot of _nervousness_ , but if Goro said that he wanted him, then _fuck_ , Akira was more than happy to give all of himself to Goro Akechi.

With a shudder from each of them, Akira slid his fingers out, clean hand shoving into his pocket and pulling out the box of condoms he’d bought— but the moment Goro saw it, he’d placed a hand onto Akira’s own, shook his head with a wry little smile pulling up those perfect lips.

“Don’t need those,” he snickered, eyes still lost to the haze of pleasure, yet with just a bit of humour colouring them, “Betas can’t get pregnant from Alphas, remember?”

Right.

 _Right_.

Fuck, Akira was _way_ too nervous to think straight.

Discarding the box, Goro helped him out of his pants, his _boxers_ — and when Goro’s eyes caught on the size of his cock (already hard, weeping at the head with precum _just_ from their foreplay) Akira watched as the boy’s lips parted and his gaze widened.

“Look, I—” he gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing as he _tried_ to find the words, “I _know_ it’s a little much and if you think I’ll just hurt you, I’m more than happy to eat you out and I just _really_ don’t want to lose control because what if I hurt you and—”

But Goro shut him up with a kiss, a hand coming to wrap around Akira’s cock— and at that, his words were replaced with a long, _guttural_ moan.

“I don’t think it’s too big..” Goro whispered, the words passed between their lips, “I want you to fill me up, Akira.”

 _God_ **_fucking_** —

Just like that, _everything_ —Goro’s hand slowly stroking him, Goro’s voice against his lips, the _words_ he’d uttered to Akira—came crashing down on him all at once, and he tackled the boy back onto his bed.

With his lips to Goro’s neck, Akira was already lining the head of his cock up against the slit waiting and _dripping_ for him. Below him, the brunette’s voice reverberated in his throat.

“I _want_ you to lose control—"

And Akira bit down, his first mark.

“I _need_ you to lose control—”

And the head of his cock pushed in, Goro’s heat consuming every inch.

“Fuck _— Akira_ —”

“I’ll—” Akira panted, the words kissed onto Goro’s skin, “I’ll be gentle, okay?”

Goro’s legs once more wrapped around his waist, hips bucking down further and further and just _begging_ for more. He was ready to take this, and Akira knew it was because..

No.

They didn’t need to think about that.

Goro was _his_ now— _his_ mate—and if any other Alpha so much as _dared_ to think about touching _his_ mate, then Akira was going to make sure they wouldn’t be able to _look_ at him anymore.

“ _Akira_..” Goro moaned, each syllable laced with sweet bliss and pure need, “I love you..”

Akira pushed more of his cock in, getting to about half before Goro sounded out a noise of protest.

Still, he moved his head to kiss Goro one more time, for what wouldn’t be the last time of the night.

“I love you, too.”

* * *

The door creaked open as Akira’s keys jingled back into his pocket, shoes toed off at the entrance before he slipped into his house slippers.

His apartment was located in Yongen-Jaya, close to Leblanc and just a bit of a walk away. It made coming to work easier— plus, Futaba liked to visit often.

He got maybe five steps into the apartment before Mona (a black cat that used to lounge about Shujin’s rooftop, that which he and Goro decided to basically adopt before the brunette’s graduation) bound up to him, began rubbing up against his legs _much_ more insistently than usual. It made sense, considering Akira was gone for what was basically two days.  
Now, don’t get him wrong: Mona was a little _bitch_ — but he was a little bitch that Akira loved with all of his heart and soul, so he put up with the cat’s shit whenever he went on his rampant mood swings.

Purring, the cat began nuzzling into his chest once Akira picked him up, held him close, all before he began making his way to his bedroom.

Within, though, he immediately heard footsteps from the room beside his own— a door opening and closing, and then a knock to _his_ door just as Akira laid down on bed and closed his eyes.

Fuck was he tired.

“ _Akira_?”

“Come in,” he called back, syllables dragging together as he turned on his side, faced the wall. Mona settled himself just beside his stomach, and the cat’s purrs was already lulling Akira to sleep.

Still, once his door opened, and then that sweet strawberry and peach scent flooded into his nostrils, Akira managed to open his eyes just the slightest bit. He opened his arms and the redhead was eager to join him in bed.

Gods knew she needed this.

Cuddling, now, Akira accepted the kiss that was planted onto his lips.

“Welcome home, Akira,” she whispered, smile audible in her voice, and yet when Akira chanced a glance down to her, he saw the split-second frown pulling from the corners of her lips.

Ah, right.

He was covered in the smell of peppermint and vanilla, even if it was in the barest of traces.

“Glad to _be_ home..” he replied still, eyes closing as he hugged the woman closer upon her insistence, “.. Kasumi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so what do you get when you try to write a character you've never met bc you haven't even played royal yet and you're a veteran at avoiding spoilers ??? 
> 
> well  
> let's see honestly 
> 
> (before y'all go off @ me tho, i h a v e consulted a kasumi fan on what i plan for her in this !! and they said we all good, but since they deactivated on twitter, im just like,,, rip. i'll miss you, takemi-profile-picture person, wherever you are out there)


	4. I Feel Like I'm Drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [you're killing me slow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i_WTHkBuqbg)

“ _Akira_ —”

There it is, _again_.

“Akira, I’m—” 

Like a prayer, or a breath.

“M’ _close_ — Akira, _please_ —!”

Her scent is like an aphrodisiac.

“ _Come for me_.”

The nails on his skin, like blades cutting his back open.

“ _Ah—_ AH! ‘KIRA! AH—”

And her heat around him (her _tightness_ , her sex) something his body craves for.

Kasumi spasmed below him for a beat, and another, and then _three_. Trembles coursed throughout her body as her orgasm reached its peak, and Akira just couldn’t help the symphony of _“fuck_ ” and _“darling_ ” dripping from his lips as she tightened around him _all that much_. The sweet strawberries invading his nose had long made his head spin dizzy with the _need_ to be inside her, and the inviting way she’d stripped herself bare (all for _his_ taking) hours earlier overwhelmed Akira— to the point that he’d taken her the moment he divested himself of his clothes.

Sweat drenched his body beneath the blankets, eyes squeezed tight and the grip on Kasumi’s hips, even _tighter_. That knot coiled deep below his stomach was reaching its end again, was about to _snap_ with just one more thrust, one more scratch on his back, _one more_ thought in his head.

“ _Shit_ — Darling, so _hot_ —”

But even still—even despite the voice fronting his brain then, even despite the way every fibre of his being _screamed_ in protest—he pulled out of her as he felt himself near his peak. Sitting up now, his hand was quick to wrap around his hard, swollen, and _weeping_ cock, jerked himself faster and faster as he felt the boiling liquid in the pit of his core reach a fever pitch.

There was a name there, just on the _tip_ of his tongue, but Akira still found it in himself to bite his lip and cum with a groan and “ _darling_ ” ripping from his throat as his cock spurt ribbons of hot cum onto the load already painted across Kasumi’s stomach. Already, his fingers were bumping into the knot swollen at the base of his dick, and yet Akira didn’t stop until he was well past _spent_.

Panting, breathless, and heaving _desperately_ for the high to come down from his brain, Akira pushed the blanket off of him— only to stagger onto his feet and wander his way to the bathroom.

Even from there, the scent of strawberries and peaches followed him.

He settled himself before the sink, a rag in one hand and a fistful of his hair in the other.

 _Shit_.

Just one day together and he was already back to square one. He thought he was over this, over _him_ —a complete and utter lie he so loved to tell himself—that he finally moved on, but apparently a dam has to break down at _some_ point. Akira only wondered how in the every-loving _fuck_ it was possible for a single day, a single touch, a single _kiss_ to completely tear down all the resistance and discipline he’s built over the worse half of six years.  
He was _close_ to saying that name again. It was there, just on the tip of his tongue, burning like the embers of a fire about to erupt into brilliant flames. It could’ve been so _easy_ to turn a ‘ _K_ ’ into a ‘ _G_ ’, could’ve taken less than an ounce of effort to close his eyes and imagine a different sort of heat—an entirely other-worldly kind of heat, something so _good_ it felt unreal—wrapping around him, sucking him in, _begging_ him to shoot his load and fill every crevice he could.

It was so, scarily easy to say “ _Goro_ ” and not “ _Kasumi_ ”.  
But Akira’s always been careful not to let either of their names slip past his lips during sex, watched himself from a corner in his head to keep the Alpha named Akira Kurusu in check. To be mated with an Omega made dangerous things—dangerous _thoughts_ —slip into his head, the mental images alone like a lubricant that eased the engines of his muscles, his _cock_.

But fuck if he would relent to them. He was _more_ than just the breeding-hungry Alpha that his body was made to be.

His eyes caught on the mirror, at the man that looked back at him, and _fuck_ was Akira a goddamn mess.  
There was still that tell-tale, post-coitus afterglow on his skin, right next to all the sweat slicking and drenching every inch of his body. He looked tired with the dark circles weighed under his eyes, with the way his lips parted to breathe in, breathe out, as if he didn’t even have any spare energy left to close them. His hair was a mess, sticking up at almost-impossible angles from all the times it’d been tugged and pulled, mussed more after he let it go.

His hand was cold. When he finally had the sense to look back down onto the sink, he realised, belatedly, that it was almost full to the very brim, rag completely submerged within.  
And then, he saw his cock, something that ached to be in the same state as the sink before Akira turned the knob— it wanted to completely fill Kasumi’s womb, wanted her to overflow with his seed coating every empty nook and cranny within her. It twitched, still hard, still leaking with leftover cum in thick lines that ran down Akira’s length and formed a small puddle on the tiles of the bathroom floor. At the base, his knot still swelled to its fullest, as rock hard as the rest of his still-there erection.

Jesus, he was a fucking mess.

Removing the rag, he began to wipe himself clean, tried his _damnest_ not to coax any more cum out of the tip of his dick. After cleaning the cloth once more, he splashed his face, rubbed until there was at least _some_ semblance of the Alpha that he was there, and it was all before he padded his way back to his bedroom when the instincts that were hardwired into his brain told him to stop putting it off and go take care of his Omega.

 _His_ Omega.

There were so many things wrong with those two words together.

“Hey,” he mumbled, the barest hints of a smile tugging up his cheeks, “Clean up time.”

Kasumi returned the grin, her face written in nothing but gratefulness and adoration. Akira laid beside her, wiping the rag up and down her skin— and it was all whilst he avoided looking her in the face directly, feigning (but not quite _acting_ ) tiredness on his features.

When most of the cum and sweat had been cleaned off her naked body, Akira tossed the rag over to his nightstand, let himself fall back onto the pillows and shut his eyes, finally. A lithe pair of arms encircled his neck, holding him close, and Akira’s body responded almost immediately.

He kissed her, pulling her flush against himself as he did. Though they were tired, they were still pecks and kisses that satisfied his instincts’ need to be there for the Omega.

“Love you..”

God, it was too hard to lie. Akira couldn’t say it back.

So, instead, his lips slotted against hers— once more, _twice more_ , until he was sure he could’ve at _least_ communicated _it_ back.

Whatever “ _it_ ” was, Akira still had to figure that out.

But still, entangled with her above his bed, they held each other until their breaths evened and their minds plunged into the depths of slumber— and all the while, Akira was thinking of nothing but brunette hair, and eyes like the colours of dusk.

* * *

When you came down to it, Akira Kurusu’s life was a simple one: He’d wake up early in the mornings, cook himself and Kasumi breakfast, pack her lunch for the day, all before heading out to Café Leblanc with Mona in tow. There, he’d spend the rest of the hours making curry, brewing coffee, talking to the customers and whatnot, and when night firmly settled itself into the sky, he’d lock up, go home, and get some sleep.

Wake up, eat, work, sleep, repeat. _That_ was the routine of his life.

But then, there would be days when Sojiro insisted he could handle the café alone, days when his friends found the time in their busy schedules to stop by Leblanc: More often than not, one redhead of a midget found herself there, sitting in the corner with her laptop and an iced cocoa (or three) made especially for her, as she poked fun at Akira and did her online stuff.

Today was such a day— and it was just Akira’s luck that it was also the day he felt _especially_ tired.

“You look like you’re dead,” Futaba began, the words coming out blunt and even, “Seriously, not like you’re dead _inside_ , just.. _Dead_.”

Akira huffed, a groan sounding out from his throat. His hand found its way under the glasses balanced upon the bridge of his nose, covering his eyes as he slumped over the counter. He knew he was _tired_ , but _dead_?

“Thank you for summing that up.”

“It’s my job.” Futaba snickered, arms stretching up as she leaned back against the sofa. Truth be told, Akira _can_ admit that the Beta had grown since he first met her—albeit an extra two inches, but at least she was past five feet in height now—and the cropped-short bob cut looked good on her.

Her forever-orange hair (with the ends dipped in neon green highlights for two years and counting now) was also a nice touch at making her look like she wasn’t fifteen anymore, too.

“Anyway, what’s got you so _dead_ today? Mona wouldn’t let you sleep?”

“Nah.”

Futaba raised a brow at him, eyes zeroing in on his figure. Like always, they looked calculating as she studied him, hawk-eyed in all the ways a woman could be.

But of course, the difference was that he was talking about _the_ Futaba Sakura here— the woman that _broke_ the internet as a prank and monetised the solution just days after. He could respect the hustle, but Futaba was fucking _scary_ when she wanted to be.

Like right now.

“The lady at home?” she tried carefully.

Good guess, but no.

Akira shook his head.

“What, you saw _him_ in the middle of the street and you spent all night thinking about it?”

Futaba was laughing at her own joke, cackling in that so-wicked way that sometimes sent chills of _fear_ up Akira’s spine, and sometimes just plain annoyed the fuck out of him. Unfortunately for one Akira Kurusu, though, it was the former.

He looked up at her, the bags under his eyes all the more apparent as she stared back after wrenching her eyes open.

“Wait.”

 _Here we go_.

“Wait, _no_..!”

Futaba jumped out of the booth, darting straight towards him in a beeline.

“THERE’S NO _WAY_! YOU SAW _GORO_ AGAIN!”

“ _SHH_ —” Akira clapped his hands over her lips, brows quick to furrow together. “ _Yeah_ , let the whole _neighbourhood_ know that I met him again—”

But then, Futaba stilled— and though it was for a mere _second_ , a single _breath_ , Akira watched as her eyes widened more and more, the realisation slapping them _both_ across the face. At that point, even his hands weren’t enough to mute the woman, for she all but jumped up and balled his shirt into both fists, shaking him as violently as a 5’1” midget can shake a 6’1” barista.

“YOU _MET_ HIM! YOU DIDN’T JUST _SEE_ HIM! _YOU **MET** GORO _AGAIN!!”

“ _Who_ met Goro again?”

 _God, kill me now_.

The smell of fresh pastries—crisp, sweet—reached him, a scent so nuanced to him that it almost blended into the aroma always floating amidst Leblanc. Turning his head to the door, he first saw the bright, cover page-worthy smile, caught the sight of Alpha Ann Takamaki second.  
She strolled towards them both, slipping easily into the booth Futaba previously occupied— but her eyes stayed on them all the while, grin widening more and more as her hands folded together, chin resting upon them soon after. With a nod, she leaned towards them just a bit more, eyes wide and bright minty blue and _dangerous._

“ _Well_?” she prodded, and by _God_ Akira knew already that he was a dead man walking, “I want the _juicy_ details.”

Ann had been his friend all the way from high school sophomore year, through the hell on earth that was college, and even to now in their adult lives. She was oftentimes busy with her modelling work (was actually the top model at her agency) and her visits to Leblanc were occasional, but she kept contact the best out of anyone he knew even in the middle of work and life and _drama_.  
Which is what she sought out now, looking expectantly at them with her lashes batting and her smile _devious_. Probably the mere _mention_ of Goro pricked her ears up from a mile away, with them being the best of friends with a platonic bond tighter than anything Akira’s ever seen from two people. Being the Alpha of them two, she showed fierce protectiveness over her best friend, had more than once _growled_ at any sleezy eye that landed either on Goro, her, or them _both_.

And it was then that Akira asked himself: Why was every woman in his life either scary or dangerous?!

Futaba was quick to release Akira then, and Akira wasted no time to put a small barrier between the two of them and _him_ with the counter. He wasn’t going to take any chances here, and even _if_ he knew he could take Ann on in a fistfight (though they never actually got into one that’s serious) goddammit he was going to be ready to fight for his life if need be.

Gods knew he was well aware of what could happen when an Alpha found out one of their mates (someone they _scented_ and put under their protection) got hurt.

“Akira met up with Goro,” the redhead supplied, bounding right back onto her seat, and Akira couldn’t see her face from where he stood, but the Cheshire grin spread thick across her features was just _audible_ in her voice.

“ _No_!”

“They did!”

_God, **please** end my life right now. _

“What happened next?”

In that moment, he became _acutely_ aware of two pairs of eyes trained on him. Though Akira himself didn’t even try to bother avoiding their stares, he felt like he was put right in the middle of a JRPG— choose the wrong dialogue option, and he could either be put in the clear or dead in the water.  
He forced a gulp down, right hand clenching out of sight as he _tried_ to line the words together, figure out what he could (or _should_ ) say, and when time ran out, he figured he should at least be safe.

Tell them the truth.

(Even if it wasn’t the _whole_ truth.)

“I saw him walking home when I was having a walk around town. We just got dinner together and talked,” he began, casual nonchalance in his tone yet careful with his words, “Some drinks, some food. He still has a killer voice.”

To finish, he shrugged at the end, opting to make his hands busy by wiping down the counter.  
But just because the Higher Powers from Above weren’t done toying with his pitiful, mortal soul yet, Ann and Futaba only nodded as they followed along, lips stretched thin with their grins and eyes still boring into Akira’s head.

“ _Details_!” Ann whined, followed immediately by Futaba’s, “ _Yeah_ , we wanna know _more_!”

He truly _was_ God’s court jester, wasn’t he?

“I don’t know, we just”—he shrugged—“We got a little drunk and I took him home, you know, _the usual_. He let me stay the night because it was already late.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, anyway.

“Okay but did anything _happen_?”

 _Shit_.

Akira returned Ann’s stare, turning as casually as he could to avoid revealing the fact that he’d just _flinched_.  
Her eyes bore into his own, prodding, _curious_ , like she was still in on this because of the potential gossip material, but Akira knew that look— she was going around this as cordially as was possible, something _primal_ swimming just beneath the surface of the light blue in her irises. Akira knew she and Goro still talked and hung out, of course, and even after years of keeping Goro safe, the protectiveness she felt over him never wavered.

In fact, it looked like it heightened tenfold over the last few years. Even _if_ she understood Akira’s reasons for the actions he’d taken in the past, it didn’t mean that there wasn’t still something there— something that wanted to cut Akira’s throat open upon seeing Goro in tears, seeing the Beta she cared for (almost as much as she cared about her own mate) breaking down, shutting off completely, going into a state like Death itself ghosted upon his heart.

She was an Alpha, same as Akira— but Akira Kurusu was still the one that broke Goro Akechi’s heart to smithereens. Gods only knew how much kindness was stored in her heart for her to still be friends with Akira, even after what happened.

He had to be careful.

“I just slept over. Nothing really happened except for Goro throwing up in the morning.”

He was _so_ thankful for the strong waft of coffee and spices in Leblanc; It washed over what Ann and Futaba could smell of him— that being, the coffee oozing his anxiety in sour tones.

“I can’t believe Goro actually _let you stay the night_ , though,” Ann snickered, and by that point, even Futaba had shut up, already sensed that something _very wrong_ was going down between the two Alphas.

“I mean”—he shrugged again—“We were pretty smashed. I think he just took pity on me, to be honest.”

Silence.  
It stretched between the three of them within Café Leblanc, only the sound of the pots boiling in the kitchen offering any real sound to penetrate this almost-unending quiet. Akira kept his eyes on Ann, if only because the woman never averted her own, and it was like that that she almost seemed to analyse him, searching his face for any more and sniffing quietly to _try_ and get a whiff of something fishy (metaphorically) going on with him.

He was just glad, though, that neither Ann and Futaba had mated with him before. Don’t get him wrong, they were attractive and all, but for them to smell _exactly_ what he was feeling with the dahlias that’d long rotted from him— they would’ve caught him in the act right then and there. Akira was just _fine_ having them smell the hints of soured coffee in the air, nuanced, something that could mean _anything_.

Sixth grade biology whispered in his head.

_Scents are more intricate than what you could smell off of just anyone. Only family members and mates can smell the full extent of your scent, while everyone else would only get a “sample”._

Mentally, he once more thanked Leblanc for smelling so much of coffee, essentially masking him from everything.

“You’re lucky..” Ann started, eyes closed now as she leaned back into her seat, “.. Goro’s gotten a lot kinder and more patient since you last saw each other.”

A sigh slipped past his lips, long before Akira even realised he released it.

“Yeah..”

Coming around the counter now, though, a smile grew on his face, bright and cheerful. _Glad_ couldn’t even come _close_ to describing how he felt about that entire interrogation being over now.

“So what can I get you, miss top model?”

* * *

_Rule one, text me before you plan on coming over._

* * *

**You (sent 20:33)  
Hey.**

**You (sent 20:33)  
You out of work yet?**

* * *

Half an hour had come and passed already. Akira could lounge in Leblanc all he wanted, but damn if he had to stay here until well past midnight just to hear from Goro again.

Mona purred up at him, curious and laying on his back against Akira’s stomach; Akira himself was sat at one of the booths, with Leblanc around him dark save for a single lightbulb left on above him. The sign hanging on the door was flipped just before Akira sent his texts to Goro, deterring any late-night visitors to the café, and he’d been sitting there for just over thirty minutes scrolling through his chats, responding to the ones that texted back, cycling back to check if his messages were even _read_ , at least (they were not) all before starting the cycle all over again.  
His cat, looking up at the screen with those bright azure irises flicking this way and that as he typed and waited, only comforted Akira with his motor-engine purrs and small meows. Sometimes, he’d bat at Akira’s hands with his paws, other times, Akira was convinced that Mona fell asleep on him (again), but either way— Mona accompanied him as he waited.

And waited.

And _waited_.

Until at some point, his eyes darted up to the time displayed on the corner of his phone— _21:15._

_How the **fuck** has it only been five minutes?! _

He had two options on his hands here: One, was to wait it out until either Goro replied or he fell asleep in Leblanc. His old mattress still sat up in the attic, and although it was dusty, Akira already _had_ more than once spent the night in the café. It was always either when he simply couldn’t be bothered to go out and roam the streets again, or when he’d tired himself working and keeping busy to the point that he physically couldn’t walk the few streets to get to his apartment once more. Sure, his back would hurt in the morning (probably) but it beat passing out in the middle of the street any day.  
Option two, however, was turning his brain off and seeing where his feet would take him _next_. Maybe he’d hit up the jazz bar again, or maybe he’d be taken someplace entirely new. He had more than enough commute money in his wallet and the long hours of the night ahead of him, and even if Akira liked to believe that he’s wandered to every nook and cranny in Tokyo, there was always _something_ waiting for him.

Exciting options, he knew (read: _not really_ ) but they beat having to drag his ass back to the apartment and having to lie through his teeth again. Fuck if he needed to have something to do right at that moment, though— he started to think.

Thinking always led to a bad time.

_You know this is fucked, right?_

Yup, there it goes.

_Would it really count as cheating if she’s just my mate?_

Of course it would.

_I mean.. I’ve never really told her I love her._

Point, but still..

_I’m just.. Tending to both our needs._

For six years and counting, yeah.

_I just can’t leave her by herself. We’re mates.._

But to start sleeping with another person?

 _Shit_.

Shit, indeed.

His heart and his head have always been conflicted with each other, right from the very start. It was _just_ Akira’s luck that his body got thrown into the crossfire, too.

Because to love someone.. that wasn’t easy in and of itself already— throw pheromones and biology into the mix, _then_ you had one hell of a time trying to figure it all out.  
The thing _was_ , though, that Akira already _has_ figured out what his heart wanted. He knew already that he didn’t ( _couldn’t_ ) love Kasumi the way she wanted him to, even throughout all the time that’s passed that they’ve been together. Akira called her his _mate_ , never his _girlfriend_ , because that word implied that there were ever any intense emotions involved in what they had— when, really, all he ever felt for Kasumi was an overwhelming need to care for her, to tend to what she needed, fulfil his _own_ desires for her in the process. It was the standard Alpha/Omega cross that had him bound to her, the _need_ strangling at him to do what an Alpha should do.

Care for their Omega. _Breed_ them.

God, he was so _fucked_.

“ _Nya~_!”

At least Mona was here for him.

With one hand scratching the top of Mona’s head, Akira (once more, with _feeling_ ) made another round at circling back to his chatlogs. Eventually, he found himself checking the only one that seemed active, where all his friends (minus Kasumi) seemed to reply in quick succession to: the group chat of Hell, affectionately/accurately titled “ _DUMBASSES AFTER DARK (no so’s edition)”_.

* * *

**Panther (sent 21:21)  
SO YEA!! **

**Panther (sent 21:21)  
That’s basically it  
They “just talked” and “just had dinner and drinks” **

**Oracle (sent 21:21)  
idk seems a lil sus honestly **

**Oracle (sent 21:21)  
o shit hes back **

**You (sent 21:22)  
Can’t believe my friends are spilling tea about me while I was being a good cat dad and petting Mona ** **😔✊**

**You (sent 21:22)  
Actually I can**

**You (sent 21:22)  
I can never get a break in this world**

**Oracle (sent 21:22)  
F **

**Skull (sent 21:22)  
k but fr tho **

**Skull (sent 21:23)  
y didnt u tell us lmao **

**You (sent 21:23)  
Bc I can??**

**You (sent 21:23)  
Damn what if I just wanted to keep it locked away in my head forever bc there’s still something there**

**You (sent 21:23)  
*Which there isn’t btw**

**Oracle (sent 21:23)  
H A  
AS IF **

**Queen (sent 21:24)  
It is a little suspicious, though. **

**Queen (sent 21:24)  
But if you say that there really isn’t “something there” anymore, we just have to trust you. **

**Panther (sent 21:24)  
YOU GUYS SHOULD HAVE SEEN HIM THO!!! **

**Panther (sent 21:24)  
Also check it **

**Panther (sent 21:25)  
(Panther sent _gorolmao.png)_**

**You (sent 21:25)  
See???**

**You (sent 21:25)  
Goro confirmed. Dinner and drinks ONLY**

**You (sent 21:25)  
And wtf he’s replying to you but not to me???**

**Oracle (sent 21:25)  
and i oop**

**Oracle (sent 21:25)  
read that again bro **

**You (sent 21:25)  
(You deleted a message.)**

* * *

Death would’ve been so much better than having to deal with this. Akira knew they were going to find out _eventually_ but either way was a slippery slope of prodding and trying (desperately) to avoid all their questions.

* * *

**You (sent 21:25)  
(Message deleted.)**

**Oracle (sent 21:25)  
and i oop **

**Oracle (sent 21:25)  
read that again bro **

**You (sent 21:25)  
(You deleted a message.)**

**Oracle (sent 21:26)  
BITCH YOU THINK I DIDNT SCREENSHIT THTAT **

**Oracle (sent 21:26)  
(Oracle sent _HEDELETEDIT.png_ ) **

**Oracle (sent 21:26)  
H A **

**Noir (sent 21:26)  
Nice catch Futaba! **

**You (sent 21:26)  
kill me**

**Panther (sent 21:27)  
NOOOO NO NOT YET  
I’M ASKING GORO WHAT YOU SENT HIM **

**You (sent 21:27)  
BYE**

* * *

_Jesus Christ above._

Akira scrolled down his chats—down, _down_ —until he found _that_ name again (and his still-unread messages). There was no time for hesitation when he tapped on the chatlog, started typing and sending with only the will of God keeping him from making too many typos. 

* * *

**You (sent 21:27)  
Look I konw Ann is txting you**

**You (sent 21:27)  
Ignore it please**

* * *

Unseen. Again.

_He’s doing this out of spite, isn’t he?_

Akira had to take a more creative route to this.

* * *

**You (sent 21:28)  
It’ll be trouble for the both of us if they found out we’re fucking.**

**You (sent 21:28)  
You know that as well as I do.**

* * *

Unseen. _Still_.

Akira Kurusu was a patient man—Gods fucking _knew_ that he knew how to wait to near _forever_ —but this was a dire situation and it was escalating _quick_. If only judging by the message previews popping up at the top of his screen, Ann was sending the group chat updates on how the “ _asking Goro_ ” situation was going along— and though he could feel his soul slowly but surely leaving his body the more he read them, he stayed within the chatlog between he and Goro.

 _Fuck_.

An idea squirmed into the forefront of his head.

 _No_.

A more “ _direct_ ” approach to getting his attention had too many risks.

_There’s no way in **Hell**. _

But did he have any more options on his hands here? Didn’t seem like it, and Akira _knew_ that.

A groan ripped its way from his throat, all from hovering his thumb over the _send_ button and just getting it over with already.

_So help me, Goro Akechi.. If this isn’t **worth it**.. _

It would be.

* * *

**You (sent 21:30)  
(You sent _look.png_ )**

* * *

**Ann (sent 21:29)  
So yea!!  
I was just curious!**

**You (sent 21:29)  
You know that’s completely unnecessary, right?**

**You (sent 21:29)  
He was just asking how I was with the hangover.**

**Ann (sent 21:29)  
But gummy beeeeeeeeaaaaaaaar! ( •̀ n •́ )✧  
I’m worriieeeeeeeeeed!!!**

**Ann (sent 21:29)  
You get like **

**Ann (sent 21:29)  
The WORST hangovers!**

**You (sent 21:29)  
I’m fine! I promise!**

**You (sent 21:29)  
Just a little tired out from work.**

**Ann (sent 21:30)  
GOD we need to go shopping together again**

**Ann (sent 21:31)  
Get manny peddies and new clothes!!**

**Ann (sent 21:33)  
UGH let me know when you’re free again ok!!! **

* * *

Goro _gulped_.

* * *

**Ann (sent 21:35)  
Gummy bear???? Are you still awake or what omg**

* * *

Oh, Goro was _awake_. In fact, he was more awake than he’d been just five minutes ago when he was on the verge of dozing off.

He just didn’t know if he was still _breathing_ or not.

* * *

**You (sent 21:38)  
Sorry.**

**You (sent 21:38)  
I fell asleep a little. (〃￣︶￣)**

* * *

That was a good way to put it, because gods _damn_ was that _picture_ looking like a dream.

* * *

**Ann (sent 21:38)  
Oh? Φ(゜▽゜*)♪**

**Ann (sent 21:38)  
Ok now tell me the truth **

**You (sent 21:40)  
Alright, just..**

**You (sent 21:42)  
o((⊙﹏⊙))o**

**Ann (sent 21:42)  
Uh oh **

* * *

She was right. This _was_ an “ _uh oh_ ”.

* * *

**You (sent 21:45)  
How is he that hung…**

**Ann (sent 21:45)  
OMG BARTENDER CUTIE??**

**Ann (sent 21:45)  
YOU SNAGGED HIM?!!**

**You (sent 21:46)  
Yeah**

**You (sent 21:46)  
Look just**

**You (sent 21:46)  
I’ll tell you tomorrow okay love you goodnight**

**Ann (sent 21:46)  
GET YOUR MANS **

* * *

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, **fuck**. _

“Hey.”

Though his eyes bore into the screen of his phone, a kiss to his lips snagged his attention back to the Alpha standing over him.  
He was dressed once again, dark uniform draped over his form more crookedly than when Goro first saw him— but even still, the whiff of whiskey (topped with something like sugar syrup now) oozed into Goro’s nostrils with tenfold the strength it had before. He breathed that scent in like the air in his lungs, accepted the taste of alcohol on his lips though their kiss was quick.

“Already looking for someone else, huh?” the bartender asked, smug smile set upon his features, “You could’ve just asked me for another round, y’know.”

Goro shifted among his sheets, not bothering to pull up the covers over his bare thighs once he sat up. With his chin in one hand and his phone in the other, he’d only huff out a breath, blowing a stray lock of hair out of his face.

“I’m not _looking_ for someone else to fuck me,” he replied, matter-of-factly and with his eyes sliding closed, “I just got a dick pick from a fuck buddy.”

“ _Uh-huh_.”

He felt a hand brush over his hair, pushing it back out of his face entirely. Though Goro purred at the contact, it was gone just before he could _really_ start to enjoy it— Even if the past two hours were already filled with mind-blowing sex and pleasure that sent him to the stars.

“Must be a good one.” An eye peered open at that, looking up at the bartender curiously. “You were biting your lip.”

“Oh.”

 _Fuck_.

“Anyway, I’ll be heading out— you know where to find me if you’re up for it again.”

“Yeah, yeah—” Goro nodded, leaning forwards once again when the bartender bent down to kiss him.

“See ya.”

“Hm.”

All the way from within his bedroom, Goro only heard the quiet _click_ of his front door closing before he proceeded to dive under the covers. His phone never buzzed _once_ after he’d been sent that photo— and by gods, if Goro wasn’t holding back from glancing back down on it again while his guest was here.

Now, alone and cold, he could look all he wanted.

He’d been acutely aware of his phone buzzing every now and again during his tryst, but to finally open the messages once the bartender ( _Ren,_ was it? _Ken_? Goro wasn’t too sure) excused himself to the bathroom.. _That_ was an entire ride in and of itself.  
True, he _did_ see the lone two texts sent by Akira, but Akira could go fuck himself because Goro did _not_ want to talk to him too much; So, instead, he went ahead and replied to Ann. Even through the panicked messages popping up on his notification bar, Goro paid him no mind.

That was, until he saw that Akira had sent him a photo.

It got him curious.

To open that photo— Goro was practically _mesmerised_.

He recognised the background all too well, actually. Leblanc’s attic was embedded with too many memories and too many visits, so much that his eyes knew already that Akira was laying upon the old couch pushed to the wall, that he caught the futon there in the corner, and the window that looked out to the street.  
But even with all of that, there was no denying that his stare was snagged on the thing that Akira’s camera focused on: his cock, large and hard and held up by Akira’s left hand. Even if years had passed and he’d only been reacquainted with it just _recently_ , Goro knew that it was larger than it usually was, prompting him to come to the conclusion that Akira was in rut when he’d taken the picture.

 _Christ_ , it was huge: Longer than the ten inches Goro knew, _thicker_ to the point that Goro was sure he’d have to use both hands just to hold around it entirely. He could just _imagine_ trying to fit that thing into his mouth, how much he’d have to spread his jaw open and how much he’d positively _choke_ once it got down his throat— that is, if Goro could even _get_ that monster in past the head.

What would Akira taste like in rut? He always shut himself in at some motel when he got into that state, reasoning that he was afraid he’d break Goro if Goro so much as _tried_ to help him with it. It was for the best, he’d told Goro once: For the best until Goro was well-adjusted to the size of his cock when he _wasn’t_ at full power, and maybe _then_ they’d try to see if Goro could handle an Akira Kurusu in rut.

 _Wait_.

What was he thinking?!

He pulled his tongue back into his mouth, clamped it shut with lips pursed thin into a tight line. Goro wasn’t even aware that he’d begun _salivating_ the more his thoughts delved into taking that absolute _giant_ in, didn’t realise that a small puddle of drool pooled beneath his chin. _Fuck_ , what was happening to him at just a _picture_?!

But then ( _oh_ , the gods hated him, he knew that now) his phone buzzed once more, and a new message popped up just below the dick pic Akira sent him.

* * *

**Kurusu (sent 22:00)  
Take that hand away from your pussy for a bit, darling. I want us to talk. **

* * *

_What._

Did Goro even _dare_?

* * *

**Kurusu (sent 22:01)  
Now. **

* * *

He chanced a glance down, angling the screen of his phone to illuminate the sight beneath his blankets. Lo and behold, his thighs pressed together around his hand, cum and slick coating his fingers when he’d pulled them out of himself.

_What is happening to me._

* * *

**You (sent 22:03)  
Arrogant, as always.**

**You (sent 22:03)  
What do you want?**

**Kurusu (sent 22:03)  
Like I said, I want to talk. **

**You (sent 22:03)  
Then talk.**

**You (sent 22:04)  
And make it quick. I still have work tomorrow.**

* * *

An irritated grunt slipped past his lips as Goro turned to his other side, phone in his hands and a cloud of drowsiness forming over his brain. He watched the little bubble beneath the chatlog for a bit (the one that indicated that Akira was typing) as he glared at it, almost. It appeared and disappeared a number of times, stretching the anticipation thin for more than a few minutes, and by the time it once more vanished, Goro was about to lock his screen and call it a night— because if Akira was going to waste his time with this bullshit, then he could fuck off.

_Pi  
Pi  
Pi  
Pi _

But then a new screen popped in front of Goro’s face, his phone buzzing and playing that ringtone meant for calls instead of texts now.  
He stared at it, brows knitted together and lips pulled deep into a frown. No matter how many seconds passed in which he merely let it ring (out of the pure _spite_ and _irritation_ boiling within him) Akira wasn’t hanging up.

And soon, it occurred to Goro that Akira wouldn’t be letting him sleep until he answered the damn phone call already.

So, with a frustrated sigh, and with his head still buried beneath the covers, he pressed _answer_.

“ _What_?!”

_“Ha..”_

But maybe that wasn’t _exactly_ the thing that he was expecting to hear. (It certainly wasn’t something he didn’t _not_ want to hear, though.)  
For a bit, there were no words exchanged between them. Seconds stretched by with nothing but a quiet, nothing but a breath; some small pants, a groan here and there; and if Goro strained his ears to listen, a faint slapping that happened in long, steady intervals.

“What are you.. _ah_..”

When did Goro’s hand wander between his legs?

_“Shh.”_

His lips pursed shut, almost on impulse. Perhaps it was the command, or perhaps Goro just didn’t want Akira to hear the moans that would’ve followed close soon enough.

 _“It’s been a **week** , darling..”_ Akira whispered, his voice hushed in the way that invited husk in his tone, _“And.. **fuck**.. You’ve been busy.” _

“I’ve had—” Another finger (the _third_ ) slipped past the folds of his labia, Goro biting his lip as he paused, breathed out to steady himself. He was still tight, even despite the cock that fucked into him for _hours_ on end just thirty minutes before. “I’ve been.. I’ve been at work.”

_“Too busy **at work** to respond to your master?” _

_Shit_..

That was good— no, fuck that, that was _great_. He could feel himself tightening around his fingers at the hints of irritation in Akira’s voice, in the breathy moan that trailed after. In the end, all he could manage was a small nod as he bit down upon his bottom lip, even knowing that Akira wouldn’t be able to see him.

_“Answer.”_

“.. I’m sorry, sir.”

It was all he could manage amidst the ins and outs of his fingers, each time reaching just a little bit deeper, each time brushing up against his sweet spot just a _little bit_ more.

Akira sighed in his ear: low, less pleasured and more _displeased_. Goro had already closed his eyes to better let himself _feel_ , to better hear _everything_ that Akira felt generous enough to offer him— but when the fear of _disappointing_ his master began to creep up the back of his neck, Goro’s eyes snapped open as he slowed the pace of his hand, up until it stopped altogether.

“I’m—”

 _“ **Pathetic** ,”_ Akira cut in, tone sharp and _domineering_ , _“That’s what you are. How many fingers have you been fucking yourself with while we talked, hm darling?”_

“Th..” Goro glanced down to his hand, four of his fingers now buried to the _knuckle_ within his tight, aching pussy. “ _Four_.. Four, sir..”

Why was it always like this with Akira? Why did Goro always, without fail, feel himself slip out of control and simply float amongst all the pleasure wracking every nerve of his body?

Akira only hummed in response to Goro’s answer, and faintly, Goro heard the wet slaps of Akira’s hand slowing in pace. He himself didn’t dare to pump his fingers once again, not when there was still that looming fear that he disappointed his master, when he was scared that even a breath out of time would make Akira hang up right then and there.  
Because Goro was supposed to be _good_ ; He _wanted_ to be good for his master. What was he thinking, not responding to his master’s texts the moment he saw them?

_“Four, huh?”_

The way Akira had murmured those two words sounded less like a question, more like a _breath_ — he was thinking, Goro knew. Akira _always_ used to sound like that when he decided on a punishment for Goro.

And that got him thinking: _Was_ he going to be punished?

_“Do you want to be a good slut for me, Goro?”_

**_God_ ** _, yes._

“Y— _Yes_..” he managed, that single word coming out rough and choked from his throat.

_“Then pull those fingers out.”_

Goro didn’t need to question his orders. He did as he was told.

_“Out now?”_

“Yes..”

 _“ **Good** boy, Goro,” _Akira murmured, his voice coated in the kind of patronising that always ( _always_ ) got Goro off, _“Now, I know a cockslut like you needs toys when there isn’t real dick to fuck your pretty pussy. Am I correct?”_

“Ye.. _Yes_..”

_“Get your biggest toy then, darling— and be quick about washing it and getting back into bed. You don’t want me to get impatient, do you?”_

Goro has made Akira impatient once before. _Once_. There was a reason he made sure it never happened again, and _Hell_ if he was going to start doing it more _now_.  
Keeping his phone in hand, he was quick to scoot off the middle of his bed and get onto his feet, little whimpers leaving him with the small tremors of pleasure every brush against his bare skin made. Akira was set to speaker as he rummaged through his bedside drawer, his knees feeling weak as the Alpha decided _now_ was the time for him to voice his moans louder than when he spoke to Goro.

Eventually, Goro _did_ indeed find his biggest toy (a dildo made of sleek, black silicone, fifteen inches long and three and a half inches wide with nicely-sized balls situated at the base and a suction cup at the end) and even as each step padded towards the bathroom felt like Hell on Earth with the way his hips twitched and his thighs quivered, he was soon bent over the sink— phone next to him on the counter, hands doing quick work to wash it clean with soap and water. Using the towel hanging on the rack next to his shower, he patted the toy dry, basically _ran_ back to his bedroom, and fell straight atop his covers with his legs spread and with his hand gripping the base of the dildo hard.

“I’m—” he stammered, eyes squeezing shut and phone sitting next to his ear, “It’s _ready_ , master.”

 _“ **Good** , Goro..” _Akira cooed in kind, his voice sweet like a honey pouring straight onto Goro’s tongue, _“Are you being good for me?”_

“Yes—”

_“Ride it.”_

There was no questioning it. Goro couldn’t even take all of the dildo’s size on his _best_ days, but his master’s orders came first.  
Sitting up now, on his knees, he placed the dildo onto his bed, its head brushing up against his slit and making him feel even _weaker_. Slowly, _surely_ , after he’d squirted a generous helping of lube onto the toy, he lowered himself, heard his voice hitch on a high squeak as the head stretched him open the most it could go. He took it in little by little, but even the smallest of centimetres made him moan loud into the walls of his bedroom, his small cock throbbing at the _need_ to cum just from taking such a big cock in.

“ _M— Master_ , I’m—”

 _“Oh?”_ Akira chuckled, the sound coming out low, husky, _demeaning_ , _“You haven’t even started riding it, have you darling?”_

“Nuh.. _No_..”

_“Good boys get rewards, Goro.. And I don’t think you’ve proven yourself **good enough** to cum.” _

Just barely halfway down the toy, Goro stopped his hips from descending any further. His hands squeezed into tight fists, nails digging into the skin of his palm, as he all but _forced himself_ to come down from the oncoming high building up deep within his core— he shook his head, gnawed on his bottom lip, thought over and over that he didn’t want to disappoint his master, that he didn’t want to cum, that he’d be _bad_ if he did. Again and again and again, for seconds and minutes on end, he’d squirm and groan, moaning out his pleas of “ _no_ ” after “ _no_ ”; “ _I’m not_ ” after _“I won’t_ ”.

Finally, he felt the pressure start to subside, and turning slowly now, he stretched to reach his phone, hold it close to his ear once he managed to pick it up with clumsy fingers.

“I— I _did it_ , master!”

He was so _proud_ of himself for that— Goro couldn’t help but grin wide, his happiness spilling onto his words.

_“Ha.. **Shit** — That’s amazing, darling!” _

But just as Goro felt the beginnings of pride start to seep into his brain, Akira’s voice dropped an octave lower, frown just _audible_ in his voice.

 _“You did the bare minimum,”_ he continued, a grunt following soon before, _“Now do what you’re told and ride it, you dumb fucking whore.”_

His master was displeased at him. He had to work harder.  
Goro plunged what rest he could take of the dildo down, quicker than his pace before now that he’d stretched out enough for it to be _comfortable_. With a shaky moan spilling from his lips, he’d lift his hips up, _up_ , until everything but the cockhead remained in him, stretching his pussy open with how it was larger, more _bulbous,_ than the rest of the toy’s length.

Once he’d dropped back down, though, there was no such thing as a slow and steady pace; Instead, Goro’s hands splayed across the sheets, holding himself steady as he fucked his hole on the dildo fast, rough, _hard_. Breathy moans, shaky grunts, and a multitude of the _filthiest_ noises came flooding out from his voice, all while the wet _squelch_ and obscene _slap_ of him fucking himself resonated throughout the room.

“Master! _Master_!”

_“That’s it, slut— **Ngh** — Keep fucking yourself, just like **that** —” _

Goro was finally starting to get praise— he only went faster.

“ _AH— MM— MASTER—!”_

With the size of the toy, and with the way he’d angled his hips, each pound exactly to his sweet spot made Goro see the stars and beyond. His thighs tensed with the exertion of having to hold himself up like that (only to drop back down the split-second he’d lifted his body) but to _Hell_ with that— Goro was feeling good ( _so_ good, _too_ good) and nothing would make him stop feeling this way.

That is, of course, until Akira said,

_“Now stop.”_

“Wh—”

Goro gulped, slowed his bouncing, and he could _feel_ himself shake at the loss of stimulation to where he _needed_ it. Grinding to a halt now, his thighs shook with the small break he was granted ( _cursed_ with) and leaning down to his phone he’d all but moan and bite down on his lip.

“ _Please_ —”

 _“Truth is, I lied a bit, Goro—”_ Akira groaned, and on speaker, the rapid slaps of his hand jerking himself resounded in Goro’s ears— so loud that he was _sure_ Akira wanted him to hear it, hear him _pleasure_ himself. _“You’ve made me impatient— **ha..** So long ago already— **mmh** —” _

_Oh no._

No, no, _no_!

_“Bad boys— ah, **fuck** — Bad boys don’t **get** to cum.” _

Akira was close to cumming, Goro just _knew_ it! He had to make it up somehow, had to show Akira that he was _good_ and that he _did_ deserve to cum!

_“So— **shit** — I decided to.. **ha**.. to **punish** you.” _

Goro grasped at his phone, head shaking, hips twitching with the _need_ to start fucking himself again, the _need_ to cum around this cock. With a hand balled into the sheets, he’d watch, _helpless_ , as Akira’s camera turned on— and there, he was treated to the sight of Akira Kurusu laying back upon the futon in his old attic, hand pumping up and down his cock and _god_ , Goro wanted to lick the cum streaming down his shaft.  
He wanted ( _needed_ ) to wrap his lips around Akira’s dick, wanted to suck him off and _please_ him until Akira came down his throat. Goro would’ve hopped on his cock just _seconds_ after, would’ve bounced up and down to do all the work for him, made him cum with how hot and tight his pussy was— Hell, even his _ass_ would do the job well!

So Akira _can’t_ do this! Goro could make him feel good _so_ much!

_“You— **fuck** — You won’t cum **tonight** —” _

“No— No, no, _please_! Master, please!”

_“And you’re not.. **ha**.. You’re not **cumming** , until **I** say you can.” _

Akira grunted out a curse, then _two_ , all before a string of pleasured _“yeah”_ and _“fuck”_ left his lips. A shot of white painted Goro’s world, thick cum coating Akira’s hand and puddling down his stomach— and even then the Alpha continued to rub himself up and down that _big_ cock, milking himself dry as his knot swelled _just_ at the edge of the frame.

All while Goro could do _nothing_ but _watch_.  
He was all too aware of how he squeezed around the dildo, as if trying to milk _it_ of all the cum he could— but alas, it wasn’t a squirting toy, and no cum could compare to the hot seed of the Alpha on the other side of the screen.

Still, with his lip bleeding now and his phone set on the bed just in front of his face, Goro grasped at the sheets— he gulped down hard, forced himself not to squeeze his eyes shut and _watch_ , as all but a single plea left him in a hushed whisper.

“Please..”

On camera, Akira slowed his hand. Smirking, lazy, Akira still had the energy to speak to him.

_“Wanna cum, darling?”_

“ _Please_..”

_“Is that all you can say now? Just **begging**?” _

“No—” Goro rasped, and faintly, he could feel each inch pushing into his pussy the more he lowered himself, “ _Master_ — I wanna _cum_ —”

But all his begging did was make Akira laugh.

_“Then don’t keep me waiting next time. Goodnight, Goro.”_

“Wait—!”

Just like that, the call ended. Struck, _devastated_ (frankly), and utterly _pissed_ , Goro chucked his phone at the wall.

_GODDAMMIT, AKIRA—_

He really just left Goro like that. He _really_ just left Goro without letting him finish. What the Hell _else_ did he expect from that _asshole_?!

Perhaps the richest thing about all of this was, Akira was being a complete _moron_ about the entire “ _impatient_ ” thing. So what if Goro ghosted him for an hour? So fucking _what_ if Akira wasn’t letting him get off? Goro didn’t need _anyone’s_ damn permission to cum.

He sat up, shivering just _slightly_ at the dildo grinding against his sweet spot. _Fuck_ , he was _so_ close, too.

_Fuck him.._

Slowly, again, he settled back into bucking his hips up and down the toy— his eyes squeezed shut, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and the memories of his earlier hook-up flooding his mind. A hand found its way to his cock, kneading and jerking himself with his fingers as the molten liquid-gold once more built up in his core, getting hotter, feeling _better_ , enrapturing him with bliss and blinding him with what was coming.

He was close.

He was _so_ close.

And yet—

_You’re not cumming until I say you can._

—and yet dark curls replaced the black, spikey hair in his mind.

_Bad boys don’t get to cum._

And the smell of rich coffee overcame strong whiskey.

_Are you being good for me?_

A disappointed scowl.

_Darling.._

A smile curled like the Cheshire cat’s.

_Treasure—_

Eyes like obsidian gems, looking up at him with a loving, _adoring_ gaze as Goro rode his cock to his peak.

“M—”

_Fuck, fuck, **fuck—**_

“ _AKIRA_ —”

His body shook, each crash and wave of sweet pleasure making him stutter all the more. His hips bucked up and down on the dildo faster, _faster_ , squeezing around it tight each time it fucked into his sweet spot, moaning a bunch of syllables that Goro couldn’t even _recognise_ in his high. He bounced on the toy, slowed as his peak reached its descent, and there, gripping the sheets, _shaking_ , his moans finally reached him and the images that flashed into his mind’s eye at the moments leading up to his orgasm settled into his head.

“ _Ah—_ ‘Kira—”

Oh. 

_Fuck_.

Goro punched the mattress.

* * *

“Where are you _taking me_?”

“ _Shh_ , it’s a surprise! Just come on!”

Led by the hand, climbing up the staircases, and frankly _confused out of his goddamn mind_ , Goro Akechi did nothing but follow the delinquent transfer student— The delinquent transfer student with a criminal record to his name who also just so happened to also be Goro’s loving boyfriend.

The school year was nearing its end, and with it, Goro’s graduation. He’d already taken his college entrance exams, had passed his classes with flying colours, and was in charge of heading the graduation ceremony with his Valedictorian speech. True, it made his schedule hectic, and going on dates and spending time with Akira came too little in far too long stretches of time, but Goro assured him already that it would just be _for now_.

So why the _Hell_ was Akira leading him through the school when graduation practise started in twenty minutes?!

Soon, they reached the rooftop— and _okay_ , Goro could admit that it was nice standing up there for once, where the air was clear and the skies were vast above them; Compared to the stuffy gym-turned-graduation hall, this was paradise.

But maybe Goro was so distracted by the new _freeness_ around him that he forgot Akira was there. He only got reminded by the boy himself wrapping his arms around Goro’s middle, hugging him close from behind. Like that, he could hear Akira breathing into his neck deeply, almost as if he was trying to inhale what little was of Goro’s scent.

“So nice..” he murmured, and though Goro could _barely_ see his face, he knew that a smile decorated the Alpha’s handsome features, “You always smell so nice..”

“You know I don’t have much of a scent!” Goro laughed, craning his head away anyway for Akira to get better access.

“ _Yeah_ , but”—and again, a deep sniff into the crook of his neck, making Goro shiver just a bit—“You smell _really_ nice. Like candy. I like candy.”

“Of course you would, you big softie.”

“ _Mm_..”

Goro wanted to stay like that for _hours_ , he really did—Akira was _very_ warm, _very_ big, and was basically a human teddy bear—but as tempted as he was to just skip out on graduation practise, he really _couldn’t_. Not after all the shit he’s been through these past three years at Shujin.

Call him arrogant, but he wanted to stand on that stage and be looked up to— all while he looked down on all the scum that thought of him as _nothing_ but another Beta, another face in the crowd. He ended up as Valedictorian over an _Alpha_ for God’s sake!

“Hey..” he began, careful as he spoke as to not break this moment _entirely_ , “What did you bring me here for?”

“Oh—!” Akira jumped a bit behind him, almost like he was zapped back to life after nuzzling up against Goro so much. “Right, _right_ — Uh..”

One of his arms unwrapped around Goro, and though Goro watched curiously as Akira dove it into his pocket in search of _something_ , he still found himself pressing back against the other boy as he waited.  
Akira was comforting, from the way he held Goro, to the effect his very _presence_ had on him. It would be _Hell_ adjusting to the new school without Akira there, but that was only for a year! He could handle separation anxiety from his mate, no problem.

And besides, they could still visit each other. Goro could come to Leblanc and Akira could sneak into his university, or something. Gods knew he could already pose as a college student _now_ , when he was a year away from officially becoming one.

Soon, though, his world was plunged into darkness. Akira’s hand hovered over his eyes, and instinctively, Goro closed them altogether. Like that, he could hear every deep breath that Akira inhaled, every slow exhale he made to calm himself. It was evident enough in his scent that he was nervous, that he wasn’t sure about whatever he was planning to do.

God, Goro couldn’t _take_ that. He wished he could just.. _kiss_ Akira’s anxieties away. Or beat them with a stick. He just didn’t want his mate to be _upset_.

“Look, I know it’s only going to be for a year, but..”

Akira guided his hand open, palm up.

“I _love_ you— and I wanted to give you something before you go—”

And there, on his gloves, was something long, with a small weight at one end.

“I just.. I want you to know that I’m always here for you, no matter how far apart we are. I wanted to give you something that would remind you of this promise— That I love you, no matter what happens.”

“Can I at least have a guess on what it is before you stop covering my eyes?”

There was a soft chuckle in his ear, Akira’s chin coming to rest upon his shoulder soon after.

“Go ahead.”

“It’s a necklace.”

“ _Wh_ —!”

And again, Akira jumped to a start behind him— except this time, he buried his cheek into Goro’s neck, pressing and nuzzling and _whining_.

“What the _Hell_! You peeked, didn’t you!”

“I’m a detective!”

“Yeah, but how did you get it on the _first_ try!”

Akira was laughing along with him, anyway.

“Because I _know_ you and of _course_ you would get something so cheesy and _sweet_ and—!”

“Oh, so it’s _cheesy_ now, huh?”

Akira wrapped both arms around his stomach again, though this time he began rubbing his face against the nape of Goro’s neck— and all the while, his fingers made for Goro’s _weak spots_.

“You’ll pay for that!”

“N—! No, _no_! Akira, _STOP_ —!”

“ _Nuh-uh_! Not this time!”

Goro was starting to _choke_. It was already so hard trying to breathe and now he was starting to _choke on his own spit_.

“Admit defeat!”

“N— _NEVER_!”

Akira kept tickling him, _merciless_ , that bastard.

“I CAN’T—!”

“ _No_ , no, no, you’re not winning with that card anymore, Goro!”

Goro doubled over, trying to squirm his way out of Akira’s grip— to no real avail.

“I CAN’T _BREATHE_!”

And maybe Akira finally ( _finally_ ) took pity on him, because by the time Goro painstakingly put his hands up in surrender, he’d ceased his never-ending attacks— only to hold Goro up as he laughed off the last of his fit, barely standing on wobbly knees and _barely_ gathering the air back into his lungs.

As if to apologise, though, Akira began peppering kisses all over his neck.

“It _is_ cheesy, I gotta admit that,” the other boy chuckled, “But what’s even _cheesier_ is the fact that I have the exact same thing. Now we’re _double_ the cheesy and therefore _double_ the sweet.”

“Your logic is so flawed—” Goro turned his head, peering back up at Akira with a smile wide on his cheeks. “And I love that about you, too, you idiot.”

“Mm— Now, do you wanna have a look at what I gave you?”

He laughed, turning around in Akira’s arms.

“Alright, _fine_.”

He wasn’t really prepared for it, even knowing that it was a necklace already. Goro expected a pendant hanging off the silver chain sitting in his hand, but Akira always took it a step further— always found a way to surprise him even if Goro _thought_ he knew exactly what the other was planning.  
Because there, hanging around the chain, was a ring shining in bright gold plating. Its band was intricate, small (yet thick) wires weaving and flowing around each other until it reached the other side. To top it all off, a golden rose bloomed right in the centre, its petals stretched out in intricate detail, with a gem the colour of deep red Bordeaux sitting in the midst of the flower.

For a bit, Goro didn’t know what he should’ve done— but he stared down at it, eyes wide, his lips parted and his jaw slacked as he tried to make sense of just _what_ this was.

A gift, yes, but..

It was also so much _more_ than that.

Akira slipped a hand underneath the collar of his turtleneck, pulling out an identical silver chain— except, the ring around his necklace was the colour of obsidian: steely and jet black, with an onyx rose in place yet with the same red gem embellishing it. 

“See? _Cheesy_ , the both of us but.. _Hey_..”

And then, he felt a hand brush up against his cheek, Akira’s thumb coming to wipe just under his eye.

“Is it too much? I’m sorry, I just—”

“ _No_ —!” Goro wiped at the other side of his face now, becoming aware of the streaks that slid down his cheeks. “No, it’s.. It’s _wonderful_. I love it. I love _you_.”

The smile returned back on Akira’s cheeks, and with it, the light of love and adoration in his eyes.

“I love you, Goro Akechi. Nothing will stop me from loving you.”

 _Nothing_.

Goro believed him— and he’d keep believing him, until the end of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck 
> 
> ok but like fuck fr im crying bc of that end ???? f u ck 
> 
> bonus listen song bc this shit  
> [THIS SONG](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7C2z4GqqS5E)  
> HITS FUCKING HARD WITH THE REST OF THE STORY I S2G


	5. so please just hold on to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [i've slayed these demons, they're over me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zq-TCN3aQqM)

hey there demons, it's me-- ya boi.

ok but joke's aside, i'm sorry if you were expecting a chapter here. i just got something i needa tell y'all.

so yada-yada, i haven't been vibing at all with writing, yada-yada, was considering deleting my ao3 off the internet again because brain is dumb. that's the basic summary of what i depression-typed on twitter.

look fam, i don't want to stop writing. hell, i started posting my shit on ao3 in the first place because i wanted to actually finish a story because i was tired of leaving shit half-assed. it's still how i feel _now_ , almost a year and a half later-- so i'm going to be pulling a real gaymer move here and i'm going on a (semi???) hiatus. think of it as eyrist going into self-preservation mode to at least salvage what's left of my love and creativity for writing, just to let it rest and recharge and grow back.  
so where does that leave the multichaps i've got going on rn? i've already said this in an announcement on seeking our silence, but i'll be taking a break from writing for whoever the fuck knows how long. i just want my brain to rest and reset and get away from numbers and statistics. i want to have fun with writing again man-- like,, _really_ have fun with it. just no thinking and no stress fun, ya feel?

here's the kicker though-- i still have zines and a big bang and a comm to work on, so who the fuck really knows when i'll be back. i want to say _soon_ (believe me, i wanna get this done as soon as possible, as much as you) but honestly? that's the exact thing i'm kinda having a problem with here. i have to stop treating writing like it's my job or some shit, because this is really just a dumb hobby that i'm not even sure if i'm half-decent at.

i mean there's also the thing where i'm feeling _~lowkey not good enough bc i haven't really stepped into the big boye league despite being here for a year and a half~_ but we're not going to talk about that.

so i'll see y'all when i see y'all.

thanks for sticking around broski. you da bomb.

love u. <3


End file.
